Chains of the Sacrifice
by Amenson
Summary: Sequel to 'Chains of the Eclipse'. Humanity narrowly avoided extinction, but without knowing what it lost in return. One mans quest to get it back and a womans embrace of her heritage. Rated M for Hell, sex, torture, demons, and a mix of everything in between. Now complete.
1. Chapter 1

**Chains of the Sacrifice**

**This is meant to be the sequel to my story 'Chains of the Eclipse', created due to a fair amount of demand for it.**

**If you want to see the full Author's note to find out what took me so long, it's on my profile.**

**Prologue**

A massive gateway stretched across the ground as far as the eye could see. The frame was made from ancient wood, seamless in its construction and brimming with the memories of all who passed beneath it. The portcullis stood a thousand feet high, easily towering over the frail creature before it. The size seemed unnecessarily grandiose, as though it was made for those not of the mortal plain.

A shimmering mist of red lined the entire structure, but was unfocused, as if it held the truth just beyond reach.

The being rose and squinted, trying to form words from the writhing mass of crimson above it. The two violet eyes narrowed and split in half, becoming a quartet of regal orbs.

The mist cleared for a fraction of a second before the figure clasped delicate hands to its face, falling to the floor from the shock of advancing to a more powerful form.

The hands parted and light fell on its face, shining on two eyes once again. The mist thickened and was as incompressible as it was before. Noticing the shift in visibility, it stood up and braced itself, trying to see past the fog for a second time.

A small voice was heard, but from no visible source. It came from within the figure and it was the only one who heard it. _"Use me. Use me and I will give you sight!"_

Deciding to utilize the offer, the figure allowed the entity to take over, accepting the change that it was offering. The change happened slower this time. Not a sudden change of states, but a gradual shift into a better being. Two small slits cut themselves into the forehead and grew, widening and stretching into eyes of their own. The new eyes blinked twice, synching with the old ones and coming to terms with a new form of perception.

They were no longer balls of fluid and blood. They became objects of energy and magic, ancient and unchanging. Vision doubled and became focused beyond all reasoning. Four violet eyes that could focus on everything in sight at once, not restricted to have to look at a single object with clarity among a scenery of haze and assumed position.

Turning her newfound sight upon the once illegible wording, she found that the mist cleared and gave way to a terrible phrase that stretched across the frame of the gate.

**Through me, you pass into the worlds of woe.**

**Through me, you pass into pain most eternal.**

**All hope abandon, ye who enter here.**

Upon reading the inscription, the figure felt fatigue. Four eyes reverted into two and she sank to her knees.

As she was on the ground, a loud clang spread across the area, followed by a steady and even series of clacks, as if a chain was being drawn across a metal wheel. The portcullis shook furiously and slowly started to rise, revealing a massive horde of creatures and demons lying in wait.

As soon as there was enough room to pass beneath the large gate, the monsters rushed forwards with breath taking speed. The figure was soon surrounded by a snarling mob of fangs and claws, all clambering over themselves to get a glimpse of the new arrival.

Amidst the cacophony of roars, a single clap was heard and the sound died instantly. All of the creatures lowered their heads in reverence and the ones in front of her parted, making room for a woman cloaked in black.

The woman slowly strode through the throng of faithful followers, her hips swaying like the leaves of an oak. She spoke with a voice that carried on the wind and whispered with the promise of honesty. "Dearest Sister! I'm so glad you've come, we've heard so much about you!"

The kneeling girl raised her eyes to see the person addressing her. She walked barefooted against the uneven ground with seemingly impossible impunity and wore tight clothes that could barely contain the hourglass figure it encompassed. As the woman knelt down to talk intimately with the figure, she stared down at the figure with four demonic eyes that burned with passion. She had a human face, one that was recognized as the girl herself.

"You must be exhausted! I completely understand, taking such a journey takes so much out of you. Fear not, sibling. Rest and be free of your troubles." The woman placed a hand on the cheek of the figure on the ground, causing eyes to droop and strength to leave the body. As the figure was almost asleep, the woman spoke three words. "Welcome home, Raven."

**(Scene break)**

A demon looked over all of his denizens and residents with malevolence. This had been his job for what felt like eternity and would be his job for the rest of eternity. Sharp claws dug into the wood of his throne, powerful screams filling the area as he did for a countless amount of times. He had always been partial to thrones, they were a sign of omnipotence and undisputed rule. This particular throne was one of his favorites, he could cause pain and suffering by lifting but a mere finger.

Demonic eyes saw all within his realm and he had been aware of an approaching messenger for a considerable amount of time now, biding the time until the information reached his ears. He rubbed his forehead, touching his ivory crown in the process. The antlers upon the crown were lopsided ever since his brief journey to Earth, a courtesy of Slade. He would have worn a different one, but it served as a reminder to never take things for granted.

The messenger approached the base of the throne that his master was occupying and prostrated himself. "My lord Trigon, ruler of the nine worlds, destroyer of planets, conqueror of dimensions, slayer of souls, and master of Terror and Hate. I have a message for the leaders of Hell."

Trigon sat unmoving and spoke with a deep, gravelly tone that vibrated through every surface and object. **"Speak."**

The messenger lowered himself even lower to the ground. "I bring word of a new arrival to your most magnificent realm!"

The demon leaned forwards and gave the messenger a hard glare. **"Souls are condemned here every second. What makes this one special?"**

"My lord, This one is still alive. She came of her free will."

Trigon's hooves dug into the ground and his throat rumbled. **"She?"**

The messenger closed his eyes tightly. "She has come to us. The Gem."

The word calmed the fires and the waters in the world they resided in, giving a moment of rest to the suffering. Trigon stood upright and walked forwards, shaking the ground with every step. As he strode past the groveling messenger, he spoke one word. **"Where?"**

"The... The city's dungeon, my lord." Even though he was already in Hell, the messenger prayed to live through the next minute.

Trigon stopped in his tracks.** "My daughter was put in the dungeons?" **The messenger only whimpered in response. The demon's eyes glowed, summoning a portal through the floor beneath him. He teleported through it, leaving but a wisp of brimstone behind.

**(Scene Break)**

Raven jumped from the cot with a start. She remembered everything that happened and was shocked that she was still alive. She thought for sure that she would be sent to the deepest furnaces of Hell or just removed from existence. And a sister? She had three brothers that she knew of, but no sisters.

Then again, Demons were very promiscuous and lustful. It wouldn't be too far from the realm of possibility that he had daughters too. But how many?

Her thought processes were halted by the need to find out where she was. The fact that she was on a cot meant that it was not a bedroom, strictly speaking. The room was small and covered in black stone, without any visible windows. The door looked to be made of metal with a grate blocking a rectangular shaped hole cut into it. Clearly, she was a prisoner.

Her head sank as the situation reminded her of where she really was and what she really did. She betrayed her friends and performed one of the most archaic forms of magic possible, sacrificing herself to send a dragon to Hell and joined him.

The situation was harsh and placed her in a position that was even worse than when she became the portal and was responsible for the end of the world. Looking back on it, the last few months just seemed like a massive line of dominoes, all packed together.

Trigon had hatched an ingenious plan to re-enter the world, via use of an artificial meteor and a following eclipse. His plan was foiled by the Teen Titans once again, but not without a most terrible cost. Every superhero is willing to give their life to save others, but the world never seems the same without them.

Extenuating circumstanced caused both the team leader and the resident mechanic to lose their lives in service of their peers. The subsequent loss of proper leadership and direction proved to be hazardous when a destructive force was set loose on the world that only the survivors could stop.

Malchior, the last Dragon, lied and cheated his way out of his book and into their world once more, only this time he didn't return to his prison. He incapacitated Beastboy and... hurt her before disappearing into the world he had not seen for a millennia.

Discovering that the world was unruly and untamable, he set out to destroy the planet, rather than to enslave the species as most choose.

He almost succeeded too. Making use of the true purpose of the Lazarus Pits, he planned to destabilize the surface, transforming it into a massive ball of magma where nothing could survive.

Beastboy, Starfire, and herself travelled far to the end of the world, confronting the Dragon at the final stage of his plan. Unable to defeat Malchior at his prime, she chose to be a sacrifice, a substitute for the world. She summoned a portal to her ancestral home in the infernal dimensions and took him with her to Hell.

It was supposed to be the ultimate sacrifice, the most noble achievement. Every soul on Earth with a good heart would happily give up their own life to save the world from destruction.

The only trouble was, the act didn't seem quite so noble now. She doubted whether it was worth it or not. She was in Hell now. She would be punished for being half human, no matter who her father was. If anything, he would make everything worse for her, the rage of a father towards the daughter that foiled his plans of world domination twice.

She was contemplating all the terrible things that could happen to her when a shadowy figure looked into her room through the tight grate. The sound of several locks being removed filled the room and the door blocking the only entrance to the room swung open, revealing a woman on the other side.

The woman stepped into the light and her face was clearly recognizable. It was the same face that the other woman had and that Raven herself wore. She could have sworn that it was the same person, the one who met her outside the gates and the one currently in the room, but her demeanor was harsher, less erotic and sensual.

Without warning, the woman grabbed her forcefully and led her outside of the cell she was being kept in. Unable to fight back, she followed the increasingly creepy looking version of herself along very long and winding corridors, slowly going up the levels of the very large structure she was in. Every door she passed contained creatures beyond imagination, monsters that were supposed to be myths and legends were visible and very much real.

She then noticed that the woman leading her was muttering to herself. Mostly nonsensical things, but the few words she could identify were less than kind.

"Where are you taking me?" Raven asked to the woman leading her along. When she didn't get an answer, she decided to ask something else. "Why did you bring me here?"

The woman whirled around and snarled. "Ignorant child! I wasn't the one to bring you." Her eyes flared with rage, unlike the other woman who appeared peaceful. "Your human side makes you weak." She scoffed. "You can't even see what is right in front of you." With that, she faced forwards and made it clear that there would be no more interruptions.

The dark stone that comprised the prison level changed to polished granite, workmanship that clearly took an uncounted number of years to make. The walk seemed to take forever, the stairs started to feel steeper by the second and her captor never slower her pace.

Eventually they reached the end of the lengthy hallway and halted in front of a massive door. The structure looked evil in every way possible, from the rusted frame to the blood-stained wood to the ornate handle. With a rough shove, the woman thrust Raven towards the door, jutting her chin to tell her to go through it.

Raven had a suspicious look on her face, but decided that she had no choice. She slowly walked to the large door and placed her hands on the handle. An intricate set of locking mechanisms withdrew and with a gut-wrenching sound, the door opened.

The room was considerably bigger than the door itself, but incredibly dark. The door closed behind her, leaving Raven in total darkness.

All of her emotions were in a state of perpetual fear towards the situation. All, that is, except for one.

Her Fury was quite enjoying the circumstances, feeling considerably more powerful in the abyssal plane rather than the mortal. It conveyed to Raven the need to be released, reasoning that if nothing else, it would allow her to see more clearly.

The change came quickly this time, feeling less foreign and more like a second nature. She was always taught to fear her demonic half. Always told that terrible things would happen if she embraced it, and it certainly could have been if the only emotion she could feel was unadultered Rage. Fury was more direct, more controlled, able to comprehend the situation without making rash decisions. She would be able to thrive in that form. To rule.

Her vision came to her and the surroundings became visible. The coliseum around her was enormous to the extreme. She had been in stadiums that were dwarfed by the size of it. The area appeared to be made for fighting, the floor was scuffled with muddy footprints and there were gouges in the ground from where weapons were plunged in and ripped out. Even though there was a thick layer of dust everywhere, it was clear that the entire arena was covered in blood splatters.

She was so concerned with the ground that she was unaware of the malevolent presence behind her. A deep voice rumbled through the chamber. **"Daughter." **

Raven whirled around to face the addresser. Her eyes rested upon quite possibly the last being that she wished to see in her life.

Trigon the Terrible, ruler of the Nine Hells, and her father. The most evil thing in all existence, responsible for the destruction of Azarath and Earth, until her friends rescued her and sent him back to Hell. He sat upon a magnificent throne overlooking the arena, leaning forwards to get a better look at his spawn, the one who bore the mark of Scath.

**"Kneel."** He demanded. Raven was in his world now and was forced to obey, falling to her knees in undeserved reverence. He sniffed the air twice and snarled. **"Your blood is not pure. Have you been playing with that green pet of yours?"**

Raven clutched at her chest, trying to calm the wrenching that came with remembering what happened with Him and what he did to her. She slowly shook her head.

Trigon narrowed his eyes at her, focusing his power to determine what happened to his daughter to make her so weak. A flash of images whirled in his mind, a library, a paper man, a ritual, and something incredibly familiar to him. Only one word could describe what was done to her. Only one word was necessary to convey the monstrous action.

Rape.

He inhaled sharply, raising his posture to one that was nothing short of intimidating. He stood up and jumped down into the arena, falling in front of his daughter and making the ground quake from the weight. **"Where is the one who did this to you?"**

Raven's eyes closed and a single tear fell down her cheek. Her head rose and she spoke for herself. "He is here. After he was released, he tried to destroy the world and the only way to stop him was to bring him here. He will be punished."

Her father knelt down and placed a finger under her chin, raising her into a standing position. **"He won't be. Not yet."** His eyes glowed and a portal appeared below Raven, sucking them both through it.

**(Scene Break)**

Raven found herself standing on a lake. A massive lake that spanned the length of miles. There were ripples that displaced the surface, but they never moved. The water was clear as crystal, transparent all the way to the darkest depths. It occurred to her that the entire body of water was comprised of ice. And not just ice, but there were figures encased below. Shapes twisted into forms impossible by normal means.

Her father walked past her and turned around, beckoning her to go with him. Gazing down into the ice, she tried to see the faces of the figures, even though the chance of recognizing any of them was slim at best. Several men with disfigured faces were close enough to the surface to see clearly, but none were familiar. The color of gold glinted in the distance, so she walked towards it.

A woman could be seen completely encased in ice from the waist down with the rest of her body and hair splayed behind her. As Raven walked past, she turned her head to see the face the right way up and gasped. It was no woman, but a girl with golden locks of hair and the most vibrant sapphire eyes. It was Terra.

She knelt down beside her to see the girl being punished for everything she did. A small breath escaped the geomancer's lips, which alerted Raven to her awareness.

Trigon looked back to see his daughter poised over one of the damned**. "Do you recognize this one, daughter?"**

She nodded. "Her name was Terra and she used to be in the same team as us. I thought she was still alive."

**"The girl has not yet been submerged." **Trigon raised his head.** "Ask her a question and she will be forced to tell you the truth."**

Raven closed her eyes. There was so much to ask, so much that Terra needed to atone for. Only one question stood out among the others.

"Terra Markov, you've done terrible things to good people. Would you make the same choice if you could go back?"

Terra's eyes never moved, but her mouth tried to form words. It looked to be the same three movements over and over again, continually trying to answer. Her voice finally found itself and three words could be heard in a hoarse and shuddered whisper. "I... don't... know... "

Her business finished, Raven stood back up and walked to where Trigon was waiting. In the time it took her to reach her father, she never looked back once.

Following in his steps, they continued across the frozen lake, travelling for what seemed like miles. Icy waves grew in size, soon becoming larger than the great demon himself. As they passed a massive wave that froze while it was in the middle of crashing, Raven reached out to touch the falling surf.

Just before her fingers made contact, black energy enveloped her hand and forced it back to her side. **"This is not ice. Just as the eternal fires can never be quenched, so too can a Cocytial lake never be melted. A single touch can render your body forfeit in an instant. God's final punishment for the worst sin anything can possibly commit."**

Raven's mind wandered. What was the worst sin? What could possibly warrant an eternity of this? The agony of ice burning every cell in the body, the horror of being suspended in a space that had no visible end without the ability to move around, the jealousy to see others walk just out of reach, and humiliation of being twisted into forms impossible to do themselves.

He turned back around and continued to move forwards along the endless surface. Raven continued to follow her progenitor for hours, never tiring even the slightest. Something about Hell made her feel alive, the entire dimensional plane sustained her with a power that penetrated her very soul.

Trigon stopped walking and waited for Raven to join him. He stood before a cave that was cut into the ice, leading down into depths yet unknown to her.

They continued into the cave and immediately she could see that it wasn't a cave but a showcase. Dozens of men and women lined the walls, all frozen just behind the edge of the ice. Trigon saw her curiosity and began to talk.

**"This is the deepest bowel of the Nine Hells, set aside for the worst offenders of man. The bodies of these have the blackest souls and the most corrupted spirits. Every one of these is a testament to the ultimate punishment, a gallery to be looked upon with disgust by those that rule Hell."**

Raven looked at each of them in turn. "Who are they?"

Trigon slowed down enough to allow her to follow his movements. They were reaching the end of the tunnel and there were only a few figures left. He motioned to a couple of gentle-looking people poised in such a way that they were stabbing themselves in the back. **"There rest Brutus and Cassius, those that betrayed Julius Caesar."** Another man appeared to be doubled over and strangling himself. **"Judas Iscariot. Perpetrator of an act so horrendous that his deeds will never be forgotten in planes both mortal and divine."**

Raven stared with interest at the most infamous man in all of history. Her eyes lingered for only a moment before moving forwards. She took three steps before noticing that her father had stopped in front of an empty space in the ice, a small room that had no occupant.

Trigon raised his hand and the room was covered in a black mist, the cold air deadening the sound of something being drawn inside and incarcerated.

The mist cleared and a being was seen thrashing around inside. A faint voice was heard from within. "Release me! I demand to be set free!"

Raven clasped a hand around her mouth as she recognized the owner of the voice, memories causing her to quake with Fear and Fury.

"I am the last Dragon! I am the last pure being! I have ruled over man and beast and I demand to be let out of this prison!"

His figure became fully visible to her just as he became aware that he was not alone. Her violet eyes met his pale blue and he started to shake his head.

"No, not you. Anybody but you, please. No. No. No." He repeated the denial several times over, hoping to rid himself of the demon who defeated him not two days past.

Trigon emitted a mighty roar, silencing the whimpering prisoner and letting all know of his anger towards the man who stole his daughter's innocence. Satisfied with his part to play, he turned to Raven who was staring at the Dragon with contempt and revulsion. **"As the betrayer of the son of God is placed in the lowest circle of Hell, it is the only fitting place for the betrayer of the daughter of the devil."**

Raven's form grew darker and rose, spawning tendrils of black energy that scoured the very ice she was surrounded by.

**"He is yours, my daughter. Yours to do with as he deserves."**

With that, Trigon departed in a wisp of fire, the portal carving a small circle in the frozen waste below. All that was left was Raven, Malchior, and a prison cell. Well, one more touch had to be added.

She thrust her hands in his direction, sending her powers forth through the icy window and covering the Dragon's body. The touch of her infernal powers electrocuted him with no mercy, using the increased power of being on her 'home turf' to her advantage.

Malchior spasmed violently against the force of her will and screamed in agony. His pain and suffering only fueled her further and a new onslaught of torture bore down on him.

Every yell was meant to pay for every second of doubt and uncertainty that he caused her. Every wail was meant to pay for every tear she shed for his actions. Every screech was meant to pay for the people she could never look at the same again, for the relationships that never grew, for the truths she never believed, and for the friends she could never appreciate.

All because of him.

All because of Malchior.

All because of what he did to her.

All because of how he took advantage of her.

All because he betrayed her.

This truly was the worst sin that a mortal could commit.

To meet someone.

To get them to like you.

To get them to trust you.

To be in a position of authority, of significance, and to abandon it for any reason or worse; for no reason at all.

She poured every ounce of emotion she could into him.

Fear. Hate. Malice. Anger. Disgust. Revulsion. Grief. Cruelty. Contempt. Helplessness. Powerlessness. Doubt. Frustration. Guilt. Shame. Despair. Terror. Panic. Dread. Fury.

At the end of it all, Malchior could do nothing but stare. He had been witness to all the horrors that a demon could conjure and the hurt that only the betrayed can know.

There was no way that she was satisfied with just that, but her Fury would never be quenched by anything. She halted her torture because the damage was done and he felt her pain, literally. Only one thing calmed her: he was at her mercy as he will be for all of eternity. He made her life Hell for the longest time. Now she would return the favor a thousand-fold.

The air in his chamber began to solidify, encasing the forlorn look of the dragon in ice forever.

His eyes stared at her with a terrible longing for release, but with the knowledge that he would never find it. His knees were bent down, kneeling in reverence to his new master. His arms froze behind his back in an involuntary act of obedience. His mouth open in a soundless wail of agony.

This was a good way to leave him. This was where he deserved to be. Rotting in the darkest and deepest parts of the Hells overlooked by someone who was disgusted by the very idea of his existence.

Raven left the last Dragon to his lamentations, intending to return on a regular basis to make him suffer for his sins. This was her Fury taking over, her demonic half emerging dominant, but she didn't care. She was in Hell and she would make damned sure that she would thrive.

**To be continued.**

**Chapter one to follow. Couple of things before I go: I have nothing against Terra. She did a terrible thing... the worst thing, but not entirely of her own volition, or that's what I choose to believe.**

**Second thing, I agree with Dante. Betrayal is the worst sin that anyone can commit and the worst experience that anyone can go through. I have had the misfortune to be betrayed. Several times in fact. I wish the same fate on nobody. The world is terrible enough as it is without the worthless snakes that seek to destroy us. **

**Amenson out.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter I: Reminiscence **

**Inquiries have been made as to the expansion of the relationship between Beastboy and Starfire. The majority of any mention of the couple is in this chapter but the story itself will focus on Beastboy and Raven. It won't be left at that and that's all I will reveal.**

**I have a fairly good idea of what will happen throughout the main journey for both parties as well as a firm knowledge of how it will end. I'll try to get it out as fast as I can manage, and I hope to see you on the other side.  
**

**Previously:**_"_ _Raven left the last Dragon to his lamentations, intending to return on a regular basis to make him suffer for his sins. This was her Fury taking over, her demonic half emerging dominant, but she didn't care. She was in Hell and she would make damned sure that she would thrive."_

The sun rose on a new day in Hell.

Not that she could call it a day. Or that she could call it a sun. Or that it was Hell at all. Pretty much everything to do with that statement was wrong.

The light appeared on a new cycle in her home.

That was more accurate. This was an alternate dimension, immune from traditional laws of planetary gravity or accepted ideas of solar systems. As far as she could tell, Hell wasn't a spirit realm of pain and suffering, constructed of nine little rooms where something nibbled at toes and chewed on hair. Hell consisted of entire worlds, planets whose size dwarfed Earth and were dedicated to the eternal damnation of souls.

She currently resided in the city of Dis, a massive metropolis comprising the fifth world of Hell.

Massive was putting it mildly. From what she knew, the city spanned the entire globe, covering every corner and every crevice with stone and mortar. Before, she was kept in the dungeons far below the city, far away from anyone and anything that could possibly be

The light came from outside, not from a singular source, but a steady emission that came from everywhere and nowhere. The light dimmed and radiated, facilitating day and night, but with no was to compare it to the solar cycles on Earth. Two 'days' had passes since she arrived and already she was swept away with what she had become. She had only met with a few of her kind, but here she was feared, respected. She was the daughter of the most powerful demon in Hell and it showed.

In her presence, every creature and being bowed in reverence. The ancient system of monarchy was clearly in effect and she was one of the high-borns. There were still hidden glances, whispered murmurs and feelings of apprehension around her and for good reason. Neither Raven nor the demons around her knew her place. She was the daughter of the assumed ruler, but what was she other than that?

One of the forgotten ones, probably. A black sheep that didn't deserve recognition, let alone the blood of Trigon himself. How could she be anything otherwise? She thwarted his plans of domination twice and practically denounced her heritage before him.

She rose from a bed this time, an actual bed with four posts and blankets. The material was mostly toughened leather, the type unknown to her, but very thick and very tough. Walking to an open window at the far side of the room, she gazed upon her new home.

She punched the stone wall beside her, bruising her knuckles and leaving behind a few scrapings of skin behind. Just as soon as the wounds were inflicted, they were healed, particles of skin flowing over the injured flesh and blood retracting back into the bloodstream it was ruptured from.

She punched the wall again, harder this time. Her healing, naturally augmented by her location happened even faster this time, renewing her skin to her ghostly sheen.

Filled with anger, she unleashed a flurry of blows on the limestone, fracturing three bones in her hands and making blood dribble down her wrist. She panted heavily, exhausted from the outburst, only to see the damage heal itself again. The blood quickly clotted and all that was left was a dried trickle of blood that ran along her arm.

A knock on the door interrupted her actions and the door opened, revealing a shrunken and beaten man prostrating himself before her, clad in a faded and ragged red cloak. A tattoo on his forehead symbolized that he was a slave, an object to be used in every way with no regret of remorse. "My lady Raven, your most illustrious father deigns your presence."

A hint of pity flashed across her eyes as she looked on the frail man. "How did you become like this?" Raven asked. She felt that she already knew the answer, but she wanted to know for sure.

Lowering himself even further, he spoke. "Throughout my life, I worshipped your father in the church of Blood. He has rewarded me with a place in his service. It is a great honor to be of use to Trigon the Terrible!" The words sounded forced, but with a baseless conviction to it.

She looked at the man, groveling at her feet, disheveled and pale from living a shadow of a life for longer than could be determined. "It doesn't look like an honor to me." She whispered to herself.

The messenger backed up, never raising his head and left the chamber, leading the demon princess to her father.

The room she was led to was much smaller than the arena she met him in before, comprising of a large balcony overlooking the city. Trigon stood in the center of the platform, basking in the dimensional glow above him.

**"Daughter."** Her father was in a less intimidating stance, even appearing to have shrunk in size, but still towering the demoness. **"Rise."** He commanded.

She obeyed and rose from her kneeling position. A moment of silence passed between them, so she decided to begin. "You summoned me."

His eyes narrowed. **"Is a father not allowed to see the result of his seed?"**

She crossed her arms defiantly. "I told you before I banished you, you have no right to be called 'Father'! You had no part in my upbringing!"

He slammed his arm against the wall behind him. **"I created you! That is part enough!"**

"What did you bring me for?" Raven asked. She wanted to leave his presence as quickly as possible.

Trigon sat down and brought his joined hands to the front of his face. **"I would name you my heir, give you command of all the legions of Hell, and control over every world of the afterlife."** His four eyes narrowed with curiosity as her four eyes widened with shock.

"W... What?" She was stunned. She was being given ultimate power by the ruler of the Hells. Only one question stood up from the many that were furiously tearing up her mind. "Why me? You have three sons, dozens of daughters."

**"Hundreds."**

Even though the number was immense, she could barely process the reason that he chose her. "Why me?"

**"When I was born, I killed my own mother. By the time that I was a year old, the entire planet bowed before me. At six, I destroyed it and set out amongst the stars, conquering all under heaven. At thirty, I had dominion over millions of worlds, hundreds of galaxies. Now I possess the souls of all creatures after death. My nature is my birthright. I have not known any other way to live."**

Raven could only gape at the story. This could have been her destiny, her legacy. "You still haven't answered my question." She replied.

Trigon sat back on his throne**. "I thought that I was the most powerful being in the universe, but you proved me wrong. You, who had friends, family, and restraint on your powers defeated I, who captured planets by lifting a finger. I never had friends. I never had a family. I never had anyone or anything to protect me but myself. It is clear to me that you are the future, my daughter. You are my heir."**

Her heart pounded furiously against her chest, but she didn't know if it was from the anticipation of ruling or from the thought of the responsibility given to her. Hell, it could be both. "I... I..." She couldn't even form a sentence, she was so shocked.

He lifted his hand and faced his palm in her direction. **"Do you deny the gift I offer?"**

That's exactly what it was. A gift from her father. An inheritance that she never dreamed. Power and influence, far beyond the position that she held back on Earth. Her Fury shivered with delight at the very thought.

The shiver spread through all of her body and every emotion, filling them all with the thrill of power. She stood straighter, her eyes glowed brighter, and her weight seemed to increase, her feet digging into the ground with renewed vigor. She shook her head, visibly accepting her heritage.

**"Good." **His eyes glowed and a black spike of energy emitted from his hand and pierced her body. The black spear stuck itself in the middle of her abdomen, but it inflicted no pain. It lifted her up, her arms hanging loosely behind her, as if a supernatural force possessed her.

The spear crackled with demonic energy and shrunk in size, receding inside of her body and imbuing it with power that spread out to her extremities. The ancient glyphs of Scath that once marred her skin re-emerged, glowing red amongst the pale hue. The final mark on her forehead shone like a beacon and signaled to all that she was chosen by Trigon, an honor above all else.

Imbued with her newfound power, she gently lowered herself to the ground and looked at her hands, seeing them in a whole new light.

This was what it meant to be a demon. To be all powerful, to have the dimensions at her command. Humans could merely grasp at the thought with futile efforts, only imagine what it was like to truly control. Pretending to be unique was to be human. Raven no longer needed to pretend.

Her lips parted into a wide smile, revealing a row of sharp, pearly white fangs. She was a demon.

**(Scene Break)**

**Time elapsed in Hell: 2 years, 4 months, 19 days**

**Time elapsed on Earth: 1 month, 2 days**

_"Story, story, story!"_

_"Okay, Garfield. One story, and then beddie-byes!"_

_The green child nodded furiously and sat down, clutching his feet with anticipation. "Story, Daddy!"_

_The older man sat down opposite his son and took off his glasses. "Many years ago, there was a man and a woman, and they were deeply in love with each other. The man's name was Orpheus and he was a talented musician. He was so talented that he could even cause the rocks to weep at the beauty of the sound."_

_Garfield tried to sound out the name. "Ou... Ouf-ees."_

_Mark smiled. "Close enough. Now his wife's name was Eurydice, daughter of the God Apollo."_

_The child tried again. "Y... Yuri..."_

_His father's expression grew sterner. "Now son, you won't learn about that until much later! Let me finish the story, okay?"_

_Garfield nodded. "Yes Daddy!"_

_"Now these two people were so in love that they couldn't bear to be apart, the loneliness would kill them. One day, his wife died, leaving Orpheus in a terrible place. He sat in the middle of a forest and played a melody so sad and so mournful that every being in existence felt his sorrow and wept. So powerful was his music that the very earth opened up beneath him, creating a path all the way down to the underworld."_

_A middle-aged woman walked in on the story and sat down, wrapping her arm around her husband._

_He smiled and continued. "He travelled deep into the underworld, searching for his love, leaving everything behind to find her again. There has been only one love as true and strong as theirs since then."_

_He leaned over and gave Marie a big kiss on the cheek, earning a deep kiss from his wife and a look of true appreciation between them._

_"One relationship that makes every other look dull and boring by comparison." He firmly grasped his wife's hand and brought it to his chest. "Prince Charles and Diana! Nothing else comes close!"_

_His wife tackled him and they both landed on the bed with laughter and playful jabs between them. Garfield stuck out his tongue and covered his eyes. "Yucky!" He said._

_The couple wrestled in bed for a short time, culminating in the wife pinning her husband with his arm behind his back. Mark pounded on the mattress twice. "Uncle!"_

_Marie got off him and picked her son up, putting him on her lap. "I'll stay with the only man who loves me around here!" She protested._

_Garfield bounced on his mother's lap. "What happened next, Daddy?"_

_Returning to a sitting position, he gave a jealous glare to his son, snuggled tightly with his mother. "Orpheus searched high and low, finding nothing. He then played a song that reached the God of the underworld, bringing him to tears. He asked for his wife to be returned to him, to go back to the world of the living and live the life they deserved."_

_This time, his wife wanted to know what happened next. "And?"_

_"And he agreed! Orpheus could return with his wife, but with one condition: He had to walk back the way he came with his wife following him, but he couldn't look back at her during the trip."_

_"What happened next, dear?" Marie asked. Garfield was staring intently at his father, wondering the same thing._

_"Human curiosity." He replied. "Halfway through the trip, he betrayed his wife and looked back even when he said he wouldn't. He saw the face of his dead wife, not pretty at all and condemned her to an eternity in the afterlife."_

_Garfield's bottom lip quivered as he heard the last part, tears welling up against his eyes._

_"Remember Garfield. Never make a deal with the devil, but if you don't have a choice, always hold up your end of the bargain."_

_Garfield slowly nodded his head while snuggling closer to his mother, trying to stay close to something warm and secure._

Then again, there was nothing warm or secure any more. 'Brother Green' sat perched on a rock high above a forest of brambles an thorns. The loud whir of machinery hummed through the area, emanating from a 'Forest Shredder' as they dubbed it. It tore a path through the dense shrubbery of death with great ease, surpassing whatever length any human or beast could hack their way through before tiring.

It had been a long month on Earth and things only ever seemed to get worse. The world still suffered from the actions of Malchior, natural disasters still prevalent across the globe. One good thing emerged from all of the chaos: The countries stopped fighting each other and started helping with relief efforts and medical assistance.

There was even talk of a global summit that would be held in a few days, dozens of global leaders meeting in secret to devise possible solutions to the crisis. It was made clear that it was to be a primarily human event, the help of any aliens or superhero strictly forbidden.

This wasn't much of a concern now. The world would keep spinning with or without his help. His only concern now was of a more personal nature. Something that he had to do himself, not because he had the best chance for success, but because he was the only one who could. Who would.

Raven.

That single statement rang out through his mind and into his recent past. The word conjured up every decision he made and chance he took for the sole purpose of finding the one he lost.

The memories were valuable for tonight was the night that he would enter the abyss.

_"But Gar, you mustn't! The people you talk to are not right! They lie and they cheat and they worship the most... horrible creatures. Cease contact with them immediately!"_

_"I can't do that, Star. They can get me to her, they know how."_

_"But what will you pay? How much will you sacrifice for a lost cause? Gar, she's dead!"_

_"NO!" He yelled as he slammed his fist into the wall beside him, causing small cracks to form on the old bricks. "I made a promise, Star. I never go back on my promises, ever."_

_"Don't go where I am unable to follow!" A river of tears flowed from the Tamaranian as she shut her eyes tightly. Garfield had always been brash when committing to something but she just knew that it would not end well. Swallowing back her sadness, she grasped his hands tightly and stared into his eyes. "I will not stop you, friend. Please just remember who you are."_

_Her words hit home with him and he could feel emotional turmoil bubble up within him._

_Starfire advanced, embracing the green man in a tight hug. "Just please stay with me. Stay for one last night." She pleaded. Her heart wrenched to imagine him gone._

_He put his arms around her shoulder and caressed her long crimson hair. Without saying anything else, he nodded into her shoulder and tightened his grip, not wanting to let go until he absolutely had to._

_The night had been long and restless, culminating in a night of emotional passion. She had been particularly fierce in the bedroom, holding onto him as if it was his last night on Earth, and in a way it was. He accepted her ferocity, reciprocating with his own and making sure that her needs were both met and surpassed._

_The lovemaking lasted into the early hours of the morning, their bodies tangling long after most humans would have collapsed with fatigue. Her warrior spirit invigorated her and his animalistic vitality kept him going, making for a last night that trumped all others. _

_He waited until he knew that she was asleep and rose from the bed. She rolled to the side, occupying the space that Garfield once did, subconsciously hoping to stay with his scent, his warmth. He reached over and pulled the blanket over her shoulder. The action caused a strand of hair to fall over her face, so he reached across and gently drew it back, showing a radiant and innocent face._

_Theirs was a complicated relationship, neither physically or emotionally binding. Theirs was a union of two people who understood each other completely, who found comfort in the other and who could satisfy any craving for intimacy or company. _

_Title didn't matter between them. Status held no power over them. A princess and a pet. A prisoner and a paragon. Two people from two different races. Two people altered, experimented on to change their physiology. Two beings that could be completely unguarded with the other, totally defenseless without worrying about being taken advantage of._

_He valued her opinion and held no secrets from her, but he wouldn't be stopped. He cared about her wellbeing and her peace of mind, but he didn't want her pure soul tainted along with his. _

A crackled and distorted voice broke through an old radio attached to a headphone under his mask. "Brother Green, we've broken through. Did you hold up your end of the bargain?" He was covered in black clothes that hid every inch of his green skin, a necessity for him with... these types.

A flash of satisfaction lingered on his face, but it quickly disappeared. "Of course. Are we sure that this is the right place?"

The radio crackled to life again. "Affirmative. Bring the package."

Garfield leapt from his perch and dashed along the path the shredder created. Time was of the essence. There was no time to dawdle. This night took an entire month to plan and his hard work was about to come to fruition.

It took long conversations with people, unsavory and otherwise, longer days of research in musty rooms, and deals made that should never have been. The men waiting for him within the thick forest of brambles were the result of the most important, yet second least honorable act he had done in the last few weeks.

He was reaching the end of the path that was recently torn through the thorns, running along the deep tire treads on the ground and between hewn branches. The faded yellow machine was parked off to the side, allowing him to pass it and into the open field it broke into.

Three men in red garb stood ceremoniously around a tomb, the stone walls concealing the chamber within. He walked up to the door and brushed a gloved hand on it, marveling at the age of it. He heard three guns cocking and put his hands to his side.

He turned around to face three pistols trained on various parts of his body. "I thought we were going to be reasonable about this."

The lead cultist raised his gun a little higher. "Reason be damned. We knew who you were from the beginning." He looked at the man to his left and made a motion with his gun, the cloaked man walking towards Garfield. The man grabbed the base of his hood and ripped it off, revealing his green face and pointed ears. "Give us the package!" He yelled.

Garfield's fingers brushed his backpack, fabric impacting against a metallic circle. His arms crossed in an intimidating fashion. "No."

The leader shook his gun at the superhero, as if trying to change his mind. "The cult of Blood will meet its goal. We will return our leader to his former glory!"

Garfield flashed a toothy grin. "Of course, but first, you'll have to deal with her." He nodded to a location behind them.

The three men turned their heads to see a flash of green, launching the leader into the distance. The green man leapt at the man on his left, performing a quick flurry of well-placed punches that rendered him unconscious.

The last one standing aimed his gun at Garfield, firing two quick shots before a starbolt flew at his hand, incinerating the firearm and severely burning his hand. A final, less powerful starbolt flew at his face, exploding inches before impact and overwhelmed his senses, the pressure forcing his brain to protect itself, lapsing into unconsciousness.

The orange-skinned beauty flew to the crouching green man, anxious to relieve any injuries he sustained. She grasped his hand firmly while checking his body for any penetrations. He responded by gripping the hand tightly, reassuring her that he was unharmed.

"It's a good thing they're such bad shots!" He said jokingly.

Starfire slapped him hard on the cheek, leaving a large red welt. "You left in the middle of the night. You did not even say farewell!"Her forehead wrinkled from the angry stare.

His head drooped. "I know, Kori. I'm sorry... Really sorry but I have to do this alone."

She moved next to him, sitting with their legs touching. "You could not have included me in any of your exploits?" She asked innocently.

He stared at her, their green eyes meeting without cowering. His hand cupped her cheek and she moved closer to embrace it.

She loved it when he did that. It was reassuring and peaceful, a single action that could calm and invigorate her.

With a slow motion, he moved her forehead closer to his lips and kissed it. "I'm going to get her back." He whispered with a firm conviction.

She rested her head on his shoulder. "Can I not come?"

Garfield shook his head. "No Kori. Not this time."

She closed her eyes tightly with regret, but accepted it. She stood up and walked over to the large stone structure. "Then allow me to assist you!" She stood beside the large circular door and placed her hands on it. Pushing hard, she slowly made the boulder shift, using her immense alien strength to move it out of the way.

The rock made way for a small opening in the tomb, far smaller than average crypts but wide enough for a single person to fit through. She clapped her hands together, flinging the particles of stone from them. Garfield walked to join her in front of the entrance and hugged her. "Thank you for everything."

She smiled and hugged him back. "Of course my friend." They broke the embrace after a moment and held hands. "If you make it back, I do believe you owe me a favor."

"I believe I would." With that, he clambered inside of the large stone structure, careful not to scrape either himself or any of the possessions he had with him. The crawlspace held true to its name and Garfield found himself in a very tight corridor, comparable to some air vents he crawled through on various missions.

He emerged into a large polished sphere, carved into the stone many centuries ago, but still completely devoid of any signs of aging. As he exited the small space, a quiet grinding could be heard behind him. A stone block closed the passage behind him, completing the perfect sphere and cutting off every source of light. Garfield was left in total darkness.

Reaching behind him, he opened the backpack and took out the item that the Cult of Blood wanted before. The item that would allow him to travel into the abyss. The only artificial way to break into Hell, combining the right object used in the right place.

The Horn of the Herald inside of the Tomb or Orpheus. The tale described Orpheus playing a song so powerful that it gave him entrance into the underworld. The only instrument that could open portals to other dimensions was the Herald's Horn and the only way into Hell was at the place where a door was opened before.

This was the moment that he had been planning for a month for. This was the time that needed weeks of meticulous organization, something he had never been good at. This was the place that required a deal with unsavory types to locate. This was the only location that the Herald's Horn could go that deep into the dimensions.

Calming himself, Garfield took a deep breath, filling his lungs as much as he could. He brought the Horn to his lips and he blew. Following the instructions of the Herald to the letter, he vibrated the metal of the horn to a certain frequency. That sound vibrated through the chamber, breaching through every dimension and every point in time.

The sound bounced off of every surface in the sphere, destabilizing the space in the chamber and separating it from the mortal plane. With his lungs depleted of air, Garfield quickly put the Horn back in his pack and knelt down, covering his sensitive ears to prevent damage from the rapidly increasing volume.

The peal of the trumpet vibrated through his body and the air around him, overwhelming every sense in his body. He could hear the horn's call. He could taste it. He could feel it. He could smell it. He could see the sound, a vision indescribable in any language known to man.

He could feel the cold stone surface on his feet and then it was gone. A lone man, surrounded by sound and sound alone.

Then, everything stopped.

**(Scene Break)**

A faint humming could be heard from an empty spot in an open field. The humming grew louder in intensity, increasing until the din became unbearable. The sound was so powerful that the very air seemed to shimmer, but it was clear that something was appearing.

A translucent sphere became visible in the air, a ball of swirling light and sound that grew in size and shape. The bottom of the sphere penetrated the ground, making the surface ripple as though it became liquid.

A massive crater formed in the land, the waves pushing outwards and creating curves in the very ground it once belonged to. The cacophony rose and the sphere became increasingly opaque, the very wind whipping around the area with hurricane force.

When it seemed that the sound could not get any louder, the ground no softer, the air no faster, everything exploded. The sound sent a visible shockwave across the land, spreading for miles and calming everything it touched as it expanded.

The crater hardened as if it had always been like that, a perfect sphere shaped gouge in the ground that made everything look like it belonged. The only thing that marred the surface, that seemed unnatural in the underworld was the crouched form of a man.

The figure slowly took in a breath of air through his nose. Then he took another. He opened his mouth and took in air through his canines. Satisfied that he was still alive, he stood up and surveyed the area.

The ground was black as death. The sky was red as blood. The air reeked of fear and anguish. The dimension tasted of rotting flesh. His features relaxed themselves as he took in the feeling of what he had accomplished. What he had achieved.

The only human to break into Hell for over two millennia. All to retrieve what he had lost.

He growled, a slow hum that passed through his mouth that asserted his dominance of the situation. Unsatisfied, he unleashed a roar that echoed through the dimension, alerting all of a newcomer.

Garfield smiled. "I'm here."

**To be continued...**

**Everything that will follow shall take place in the infinite abyss that awaits us all... eventually.**

**I do hope that this stays true to the previous story and that it is a good read. It certainly is when I go back and check my work.**

**Amenson out.**


	3. Chapter 3

**Chains of the Sacrifice**

**Chapter II: Limbo**

**There are many myths and stories of people travelling to the afterlife to resurrect those that they lost. There are many names for what lies ahead; Hell, Heaven, Hades, Shamballa, Yomi, Afterlife, Underworld, Agartha, Elysium, Valhalla, Jahannam, Eden, Utopia, and those are just the more popular ones. Each of them are just as real as the last, an hope that there is something after what we are a part of. A descent through each of the abyssal planes warrants nothing less than a hard look at how sins corrupt and why we still commit them.**

**Previously: **_"The ground was black as death. The sky was red as blood. The air reeked of fear and anguish. The dimension tasted of rotting flesh. His features relaxed themselves as he took in the feeling of what he had accomplished. What he had achieved._

_The only human to break into Hell for over two millennia. All to retrieve what he had lost._

_He growled, a slow hum that passed through his mouth that asserted his dominance of the situation. Unsatisfied, he unleashed a roar that echoed through the dimension, alerting all of a newcomer._

_Garfield smiled. "I'm here."_

Garfield looked around him, trying his best to find out where he was. The ground formed a giant crater, the dirt showing no signs of scouring or scorching, meaning that he made the crater himself. The sky was red as blood, the stars absent from an otherwise clear night. Or it could have been day, he'd never know the difference.

Shocking himself after realizing something important, his hands flew to his back to check if the items he took with him were still there. After touching the medallion hanging on his neck, the horn in his pack, and the metal object at his side, he let out a sigh of relief. As far as he knew, the plan was executed flawlessly.

Sitting down, Garfield entered himself, seeking his other part. A voice came from behind him. "We made it!"

Garfield turned around to see a happy green superhero taking deep breaths and looking around, taking in the full extent of where he was. "You wanted to come here, so here we are."

Beastboy settled down and stared at his doppelgänger. "What does it feel like? Being back home?"

Garfield sat down and stared at the red sky. "This is the first time I've been here, yet it's like I belong." Something caught his eye and he followed it across the sky. He inhaled sharply and stood up. "Let's get going!" He halted for a moment. "Do you want to take it from here?"

Beastboy shrugged. "Might as well." With confirmation from both parties, he walked up to the entity controlling his body and placed a hand on his own shoulder. A surge of energy connected the two and they both shut their eyes from the shock. When Beastboy opened his eyes again, he saw the land as a human.

He scrambled to the top of the crater, gouging small lines in the ground on the way up. Once he reached the surface, he looked in the distance for a direction to follow. A massive line could be seen in the distance, so Beastboy set off, keeping a brisk pace to see what it was.

A good hour into the hike, Garfield emerged, strolling alongside his counterpart. "Why are we walking?" Beastboy asked, trying to get a bit of conversation during the trip.

Garfield cracked his illusionary neck. "Walking's the best way to get somewhere without getting tired."

Beastboy put his hands behind his head and stretched. "Flying's fun!"

Garfield nodded while locking eyes with the original, indicating that he agreed with the statement whole-heartedly. "It really is, but we can't. We are bringing valuable items with us that we can't risk losing."

Beastboy brought his hands to the straps on his shoulders, re-securing the backpack. "Good point."

"There is another reason though..." Garfield looked up in the sky with a small measure of fear in his eyes. "I'm afraid that we wouldn't be the only creature in the sky. Or the biggest."

Continuing on, they walked with a bit more urgency to the structure far away.

Another hour down the path, a small wisp of smoke in the distance alerted Beastboy to its existence. The wisp vanished as quickly as it appeared, but two more were seen even closer. His feline-like eyes could see them as clearly as could be managed.

They seemed to be very defined wisps, certain height, width, and size that was shared between them. More could be seen and they were all the same.

Upon closer inspection, they had edges to them, distinct lines that gave them shapes. He gasped as he realized that the wisps looked like people. Now that he knew what to look for, he could see hundreds of these wisps all around him.

His doppelgänger stepped into view and gazed on the horde of spirits before them. "We entered Hell, right at the entrance. This is the level with the greatest number of souls."

Beastboy looked at the closest one to him, gazing at the souls face. "They look so sad." He said, pity lacing his words.

"They aren't. They aren't happy either. The souls sent here lived without praise or blame, lived an average life and died an average death. They don't rest, yet they don't roil. They're in a state of perpetual nothingness."

Beastboy raised a hand to his chest, making sure his heart was still pumping. "It sounds like Hell." He felt a nudge from his doppelgänger and looked over. He realized what he just said and gave a half-hearted chuckle.

"Everyone's here. Ordinary people, important people, forgotten people, they are all down here. There's something about Hell, the equality of it all that makes it... Fair."

Beastboy knew exactly what his doppelgänger was saying he had seen enough in the world he left to understand the benefits of equality. Just the fact that he was green meant that he knew nothing else. "When you say everyone, do you mean everyone?"

Garfield gave him a hard look. "So long as they weren't bad people. All sorts reside here. There are popes, rabbis, imams, priests, cardinals, cultists, lawyers, politicians,... Even your fellow superheroes end up down here."

Beastboy stopped in his tracks. "Everyone?" The doppelgänger nodded. "Robin and Cyborg?"

"I suppose it would be Victor now, his metal parts were attached to his body, not his soul."

"Steve and Rita?" Beastboy was getting worried now. During the aftereffects of Malchior's meddling, millions died from natural disasters that struck the globe. The Doom Patrol had fallen into a chasm while on a mission in Peru.

"Them too."

"Cliff and Larry?"

Garfield paused. "Robot man didn't have much of a soul to begin with, he could be shut down and activated without much effort. As for Negative Man, he was really just a soul bound to the world. I don't know of either of them are here."

His heart was beating irregularly and his breathing became ragged. He thought that there would be some form of compensation for making it through the harshness of life. Maybe not everyone deserved to get into Heaven, but not everyone deserved to rot in Hell. Two more people crossed his mind, but he didn't have the heart to say their names out loud. He managed to whisper them. "Mom and Dad?"

His counterpart put a hand on his shoulder. "I'm sorry."

The apology was comforting, not because it was said at the right time or in the right way, but because it was the unadulterated and indispensable truth. Beastboy just stood in silence, doppelgänger by his side, praying to nothing in particular in the forlorn hope that it would ease their suffering or let them know that they weren't forgotten.

"Judgment day is still going to happen, right?"

The doppelgänger grimaced. "If it does, it's entirely up to 'Him Upstairs'. But let me ask you this: When does a being with both infinite patience and the longevity to support it choose to intervene?"

It didn't take long for the green changeling to come to a conclusion. "Shit."

Garfield gave him a squeeze to let him know that they were in Hell for a reason. Beastboy got the message and sniffed back a stifled sob. He put one foot in front of the other, continuing to journey through the First Circle of Hell.

**(Scene Break)**

Several thousand denizens of Hell congregated at the arena in the main city, waiting impatiently for the fight to start. This was the main source of entertainment for demons in the city of Dis, a gladiatorial tournament that never ran out of fighters. Traditional battles were fought one on one, two damned souls that ceaselessly tried to get the upper hand. It was not unheard of for hundreds of humans to be pitted against a horde of demons in a massive display of power. The demons always won.

The fifth circle was filled with such arenas, a necessity when the sole requirement to be imprisoned was to be a perpetrator of anger, their eternal suffering determined to fight and be fought against for the enjoyment of others.

Raven took great pleasure in witnessing these acts, the fights were always different and the thrill of not knowing who would live or die was ever-present. She was never partial to sports on Earth, but the effect was much the same. Sitting in a throng of jeering voices was like nothing she had ever experienced before. The tides of a united crowd always battered against her emotional walls, but now she was lost in them, swept away by the infinite harmony of it all.

It had been like this for over two years now. The act of her Father making her his heir changed everything. She was the big cheese in the underworld, the head honcho and sole ruler. Her every word was law, her every glare was a death sentence, and her every point was an order to be obeyed. Every minion and underling was to call her 'Mistress' with no exceptions. She didn't like what the term implied, but she enjoyed the respect that came with it.

A woman that was in control.

A woman that had the power.

A woman that knew others limits and how to surpass them.

A woman who wouldn't take 'no' for an answer.

There was still satisfaction in knowing that she could change anything. By snapping her fingers, she could summon a meal from one of her servants. By clapping her hands, she could quell any argument and distract any congregation. She could do everything short of clicking her heels together and wishing for home. Not that she'd ever want to return.

_"Liar."_

There was that voice again. Contradictory at every turn. Pestering whenever she did something stupid or bothering her whenever she was paying attention to something else.

She had heard of that little voice of consciousness inside of everyone, but it was way past that. The owner of the voice was persistent, holding onto something she had long since discarded. A memory surfaced in her mind. She used to talk like that.

One of the black fighters decapitated one of the red fighters which earned a massive roar from the stands. It was during this roar that her wars sensed movement behind her.

"Mistress Raven." Another member of the cult of Blood stood before her, female this time, prostrating as they always did. "My Lady has bid me to deliver you to her."

Raven glared at the slave. From the tattoos, she was a servant to one of the lesser demons, a messenger for a daughter of Trigon. Her meetings with other siblings had been few, mainly because they had nothing to discuss. She had met with her brothers and sisters while attending an annual feast, but they just glared at her with envy or wrath. Being the sole heir to Hell didn't sit well with the demons who worked to earn it for millennia.

"Your lady?" Raven demanded.

The slave cringed at the harshness of the question, but continued undaunted. "Yes, mistress. She mentioned that it was important." It gestured to a hallway behind them and walked down it, making sure that Trigon's heir followed.

She was led down corridors and hallways, going deeper into the city until they stopped outside of a worn looking door that was slightly ajar. Noises could be heard within that sounded like muffled screams and merciless pounding. It must have been yet another torture chamber or something. The slave opened it and moved out of the way so that Raven could see inside. What she saw was shocking.

The room was filled with a dozen people on a bed in various stages of undress. The men were almost completely naked, leather covering their eyes and mouths and binding their limbs together. The rest were female, wearing very revealing clothes that slowly came loose with the movements they made. They swarmed around the bound men and had their way, willingly or otherwise. The gags were quite effective at stopping their screams of pain and ecstasy, bindings totally removing any stirring or rolling.

Two of the women were already riding the bound slaves intensely, pounding on the erect members with incredible vigor. The others acted as support, taking turns to massage their breasts or stimulating their bodies while they ruthlessly dominated the male slaves bound to them.

Raven watched the spectacle with a mixture of interest and horror, but didn't notice that the slave that led her down positioned itself behind her. It grabbed her from behind, but not to subdue or aggress. Its hands went straight for her breasts, the quick and experienced motions stunning her and preventing her from hindering or helping the slave.

The slave's fingers attacked her nipples now, rubbing the tips and tweaking them at perfect intervals, bringing a flush to Raven's face. It pressed harder against her, forcing its own breasts into her back and moved around, rubbing fabric against skin. The slave was getting aroused too, its hoarse breath sweeping across her neck and through her hair.

The blood in Raven's body grew hotter every second, reacting to every touch she received. One of the slave's hands ventured lower, dragging itself along her belly while the other took care of her breasts. She could feel the errant fingers reach lower and lower...

Before it could reach its destination, Raven grabbed both of the venturing hands and tore them away from her body, dragging their owner in front of her. The slave girl looked down in shame, but the slightest of smirks was visible in her lips.

"You should have let it finish, sister. The girl works wonders!" Raven looked forwards to see another one of her siblings, looking back at her with carefully cropped violet hair and crimson eyes. The woman let a hand drift past her navel. "I should know, I taught it myself."

Raven squinted at the newcomer. She seemed very familiar. Her face was easily recognizable, but her aura was very distinctive. The way she spoke, the way she walked, how her hips constantly moved, how she wore what little clothing adorned her figure. "You're..."

The sultry daughter of Trigon smiled. "Yes, I met you upon your entry to this... wonderful place. What has it been, a year?"

Raven crossed her arms. "Closer to three. What do you want?"

The demon nodded her head towards a room through the back and walked towards an open door, Raven following suit. The room they entered was much the same as the other, but the bed in that one wasn't occupied. As they passed the threshold, her sister closed the door, silencing the orgy in the next room. "To see you, my dear! You're settling into your role rather nicely."

"And how do you know about my role? Why have you taken so long to see me again? And what do I call you?"

Her sister strolled behind a worn leather seat, massaging the top before resting her very toned rear on it. "So many questions sister. It's a good thing that I have all the answers for you!"

Raven merely raised an eyebrow.

"As you just saw, I am the purveyor of... desires most extreme. They come to me and pay for the services I offer."

"There's no money in Hell." Raven stated. She had been an occupant for long enough to know the basic way that demonic society operated and there was no economy to speak of. Hell had no shortage of slaves. They did all of the work, provided the food, and were the primary source of entertainment, violent or otherwise.

Her sister smiled and a gleam flashed across her eyes. "I deal in information. I knew of your arrival the second it happened. I was told of your position the moment you slipped into it. I even know of your... frequent trips to the lake Cocytus, though I don't know what the purpose is. Perhaps you could tell me of it, in exchange for my services." She gave a suggestive wink and pressed her arms closer to her chest, making her already large breasts seem even bigger.

Raven stood unmoving, keeping a deadpan look on her face. She wasn't about to tell her darkest secret to just anybody. "No." The answer was finite. Appropriate. "You still haven't told me your name."

A faked look of shock adorned the demons face. It faded as quickly as it was put on. "Fine. I am known as many things, but a particular favorite is Asmodea, Daughter of Trigon, Princess of Lust and Ruler of the Second Circle of Hell. Call me what you will."

Raven took a quick glance at her body. The black clothes she was wearing covered every part of her body, a single garment that ran from shin to shoulder. The fabric wasn't seamless though, it was worn and torn in a deceivingly random pattern.

There were rips and tears in all the right places, revealing rosy flesh by the hips and the legs, one showing a fair amount of her completely natural cleavage. Even Raven felt minutely aroused in her presence, blood moving around to suit the mood. This is what she could look like if she spent any time satisfying her more primal and lustful desires.

"How long has our father been the ruler of Hell?" Raven asked. There was no way that she would get an answer out of anyone else.

Asmodea looked upwards, trying to remember. "Long before I was born, so a few thousand years at least. Lucifer had all the power before h came along and claimed everything."

Raven was surprised to hear Satan's real name. She always thought that religion had no basis on the actual afterlife. "What happened to him? Is he dead?"

She laughed loudly, filling the room with an angelic song. "Nothing like that! He's on Earth, running a nightclub in L.A!"

Raven scoffed at the idea herself. The most infamous angel in history that tried to rebel against God and he spends his time on Earth selling alcohol to the weak and weary. Shaking the picture of the Devil singing on a microphone out of her head, she remembered that she had places to be. "You didn't bring me here to see how I was doing."

Her face lost all emotion as she realized what her original intention was. It was a serious matter, one that could be devastating as a worst case scenario. "Souls have been disappearing from their torments. Demons are missing from their posts. There are whispers of a shift of power rising. A new player for the game we play."

Raven seemed unimpressed by the news, though Asmodea was terrified. The Princess of Lust shuffled closer to her sister. "Our father didn't want to enter your world to conquer. He wanted to leave the world he was losing control of."

It was at that point that the information hit home for her. It never occurred to her that Trigon could be running away from Hell instead of towards Earth. Any problem that affected the lord of Terror would have to be dealt with personally. Raven vowed to get to the bottom of it. If she was to survive in this realm, she would remove every threat. She was more powerful than her father could ever be and it was time she showed that she was worthy of her inheritance.

Asmodea saw the conviction in her sibling's eyes and finished. She gave just enough information to be acted upon and that was sufficient. " And that's all I know. You came in at an unstable time, sister."

Feeling that her business was complete, Raven turned around to leave.

"Where do you think you're going?" Asmodea demanded. Her voice was firm with a hint of playfulness. "We aren't done here!"

Raven turned around and stared at her sister, who was now walking to the center of the room. "You told me what you knew and now I'm going to deal with it."

Asmodea purred. "Nothing is ever free my dear. I gave you information," She moved to the large circular bed in the middle. "You have to give me something in return."

Raven narrowed her eyes, a nagging suspicion telling her what would happen. "What do you want from me?"

Her sister slowly and sensually sat down on the very comfortable bed. "Lie with me this night." She did everything possible to increase her appeal. She puckered her lips slightly, pushed out her bosom, opened her legs to entice her, and use her hands to push any stray hairs away from her alluring eyes.

Raven just stared at her, unchanging and unimpressed. "No." She stated matter-of-factly.

Asmodea rubbed the spot beside her with her hands. "It'll feel good, I promise." She lowered her head in an attempt to be more arousing. "I'll be gentle."

Raven blinked twice, making it clear that she wasn't changing her opinion.

She jumped up on the bed and pleaded. "Please?" After receiving no indications to suggest that her sibling was interested, she decided to try something else. "How about this. A two minute snog and we're even?"

The very thought shocked Raven and she just held her mouth open. A small squeak of protest emitted from Raven's chest. "No!"

Asmodea shuffled forwards a few inches. "Hump your leg for five minutes?" She asked hopefully.

Raven immediately turned around and hurried out of the room before she got pulled into something she would later regret, leaving her sister alone on the bed.

Breathing a sigh of exasperation, she slumped back on the bed in defeat. She would get compensated somehow. She snapped her fingers and immediately the slave she sent to retrieve Raven rushed into the room. The slave looked a bit disheveled and from the moisture between its legs, it was obvious that the slave was masturbating in the room right next to them.

Forgoing the traditional punishment for pleasuring itself without permission, Asmodea merely opened her legs. The slave knew what it meant and immediately rushed forwards, eager to please its master. The fabric covering its masters legs only served as a minor hindrance, direct contact wasn't needed for foreplay... Yet.

In the middle of the light petting, a thought occurred to the princess of Lust. "Are you still loyal to me?" She directed to the slave between her legs. It merely responded by renewing its vigor towards the Demoness before it. "My sister left before I could tell her of another incursion into our dimension. Prepare departure for our realm. I would like to meet this new guest before Raven gets her claws on him."

**(Scene Break)**

It took many hours of walking, but Beastboy finally reached the structure in the distance. It didn't take much of his deductive ability to determine that it was a wall. A massive wall that stretched for an eternity in both directions.

The part of the wall that he approached was easily recognizable, a large gate that towered far beyond anything he could ever imagine. The door lining the gate seemed relatively unremarkable, ignoring the sheer size of it. The doppelgänger stared up with wonder, casting his gaze across the width of the frame.

To Beastboy, it didn't really spark anything, a bit of red haze he assumed would be clouds or blood splattered on it. The latter wouldn't be too far from the realm of possibility as it was the Gate to Hell, a barrier keeping the bad people in and the good people out.

No matter how much he justified the situation to himself, Beastboy couldn't help but notice his doppelgänger's fascination with the door. "Do you see something?" He asked, hoping to get an answer.

Garfield just stood by, in shock from what he was gazing upon. "You can't?" He replied. His demonic nature let him see things the way they were meant to be seen. To him, the most terrible words were transcribed on the frame, archaic phrases that struck fear and awe into him.

The superhero looked closely at it, squinting to try and make the haze clear. Three words appeared to him, unrecognizable unless he actually looked for them. He sounded them out one by one.

"Life and Death." The phrase struck a familiar chord with him, a memory that he should have remembered, but couldn't. "I've been here before."

A deep rumbling started emitting from the door. The massive door began to open, metal grating against gravel and itself, creating an ungodly screech. A sliver of light peeked from the slowly opening door, growing wider by the second.

Beastboy stood back, unsure what would emerge or if the gates were opening for him. Once the gate opened wide enough to fit a person, it cane screeching to a halt. The clinking of boots could be heard and a figure emerged from the other side of the gate.

The white clothes weren't too distinctive and the boots themselves weren't very unique, but when Beastboy saw the red sunglasses, he realized that it couldn't be anyone else. "Kid Eternity." He breathed, in shock that he even knew the name.

"Beastboy." He returned.

Shaking himself to his senses, he thought of a good rebuttal. "'Kid'? I'd have thought it would have been 'Man' or 'Grandpa' Eternity by now."

The figure chuckled. "Says the one who still goes by Beast 'Boy'."

The shapeshifter laughed out loud. "Good point. You look better without the chains."

"Are you sure you want to do this? It won't end up like you think."

Beastboy squinted at the dead hero, wary that he knew of the plan. "I'd ask how you know, but I'm not sure I'd like the answer. I'm not turning back if that's where you're going."

Kid Eternity shrugged. "A kindness then. Name anybody you would like to see again, so long as they're no longer alive."

He scratched his chin for a moment. "I guess that it would be too easy to summon Raven."

Kid Eternity merely smiled. "And the mistress is still alive."

Beastboy's eyes widened as he heard the term of endearment given to his former teammate. A shiver ran up his spine as he recognized the tone when the name was said. It was a mixture of fear and respect, two things that he never thought could be applied to Raven.

Another thought occurred to him. "Mom and Dad... Mark and Marie Logan."

It seemed so impersonal to say his parents' real names, but he wanted to be clear. He wanted to see them again. One last time.

Kid Eternity raised his hands and spoke in a commanding tone of voice. "Eternity!" He rumbled, forcing the souls of Beastboy's parents to emerge before him. Shades similar to the ones roaming in the fields behind them appeared, becoming more corporeal by the second. Soon, the faces and bodies were recognizable, wearing the same clothes that they wore before the accident.

Beastboy had tears in his eyes at that point. The very thought of his parents within arm's reach pushed him over his emotional boundaries, memories of his childhood flooding back to him with frightening force. "Is it you?" He managed to stutter out.

His parents just stood in their place, faces unchanging and bodies unmoving. They stared ahead with emerald eyes, dull and unintelligent. They were just husks of people, a memory that had been forced into existence when it should have stayed dead.

"It was tough without you, but I made it. I've missed you so much." More tears welled up in his eyes as he came up on what he wanted to say for so long. "I'm sorry I didn't save you. I should have been able to. I should have tried harder. I've saved so many people in my life, but it still isn't enough. Goodbye." Beastboy brought his hand up to the faces of his parents, wanting to touch them. To remember them.

"Eternity!" The deceased hero commanded once more, dissipating the spirits of his parents. There was some closure in the encounter, a sense of finality that he never felt before in his life. Refreshed and renewed in the determination to continue, Beastboy followed Kid Eternity through the door into Hell, descending into the Circle of Lust.

**To be continued. **

**A little taste from the comics in this one. I'll be taking a lot for granted in the story. I won't follow a single version of the underworld, but I'll be taking elements from all of the stories I've read and heard. And Asmodea is just a minor character, just as a helper for Beastboy's journey.**

**Next chapter involves Beastboy travelling through the realm of Lust. A lemon will be included just because of the situation. I also need to make sure that this story deserves the 'M'.**

**Amenson out.**


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter III: Lust**

**There is a reason why this is an 'M' story. There is a**** lemon in this chapter, but in an S&M kind of way. The second circle is dedicated to the sin of Lust, so I had to write something. Don't try it at home!**

**Previously: **_"Eternity!" The deceased hero commanded once more, dissipating the spirits of his parents. There was some closure in the encounter, a sense of finality that he never felt before in his life. Refreshed and renewed in the determination to continue, Beastboy followed Kid Eternity through the door into Hell, descending into the Circle of Lust."_

Kid Eternity crossed the gateway into another dimension, followed closely by Beastboy. The meeting he just experienced was heart wrenching in the extreme. He finally got to say goodbye to his parents, the greatest regret in his life. If anything, he felt relieved.

The burden of his regret had gnawed at him ever since he could remember. Not a day had ever gone by without his wondering if he could have done more to save his parents. He had every kind of assistance to help him deal with the loss, but nothing worked. All the help in the world couldn't make things easier. He was just grateful that the help that did came to him down here.

The scenery on the other side of the gate was drastically different than what he first broke into. There was no longer a red desert as far as the eye could see, but a river that flowed into the distance. Kid Eternity walked until the river's shore and stopped, gazing through the murky surface and past the black haze covering it.

Beastboy had heard many tales of the afterlife from many cultures and civilizations. There were many rivers in the underworld that he knew of, but there was one in particular that suited this perfectly. Styx.

He knelt down at the water's edge and looked into the depths. The water seemed so calm, so serene that if he were to only touch it, he would be the same too. His hand reached out for the surface, only to be brought into a standing position forcefully by his dead compatriot.

Only a wary look was needed to dissuade the changeling from trying it again. He needed no reminders as to his location or what traps were present.

The gatekeeper put his fingers between his lips and blew a whistle, a shrill A flat ringing into the distance. However quiet it was before the note, the absence of sound after it was absolute. It was a perfect situation to reflect the phrase 'Silent as the Grave'.

A small rippling of water marred the surface of the water, the direction heading inland. Something was coming. Through the haze came a faint outline of something floating on the river surface. As the seconds passed, the outline took shape and came into view.

Beastboy squinted his eyes to see what was approaching and gasped. It was exactly as he envisioned it to be, an ancient and dusty venetian-style boat manned by a figure cloaked in black. The boat floated closer to the shore and rolled up onto the shore, sand crushing together to compensate for the new weight. Beastboy strained to remember the name of the figure, searching his memory for the myths that involved this very situation. His doppelganger nudged him. "Charon."

The trip on the river didn't nearly take as long as Beastboy would have thought. It looked as if the only form of propulsion was an old man dragging a stick along the riverbed, but judging by the speed of the wind and water, they may as well have been on a speedboat.

Charon wasn't that much of a talker, but he knew some crazy people. The entire hour of the trip consisted of them trading stories of the most embarrassing situations they had ever heard of. Charon had the advantage on two fronts: He was like a billion years older and his stories were all about how to go straight to Hell without passing 'Go' or getting two hundred dollars.

Beastboy had to give it to the skeleton. For someone that old doing the same job for the longest time, he was surprisingly humorous. He tilted his head sideways as he got a glimpse of what under the hood. It also seemed that for someone without vocal chords, he did a surprising amount of talking.

The other end of the river appeared in the distance and it was only a moment before they were alongside of it. Beastboy left the boat feeling quite chipper. As if by supernatural providence, a crack of lightning shot across the sky, snapping him back to his senses.

The area he had been let off on was very rustic and medieval. Black clouds soared overhead, casting darkness on the land below. Thanks to Beastboy's inherent night vision, he was able to look at everything with clarity.

An ancient castle stood in the distance, stone walls towering over everything. The drawbridge was lowered and a thin line of people stretched out far beyond the castle interior. The queue travelled from the river, back of the line ending not fifty yards from where Beastboy stood.

He approached the person standing at the very back and looked at her. She looked ragged and forlorn, eyes bloodshot and black bags under them. She was in a permanent state of exhaustion and pain, something that Beastboy pitied. He would have talked to her about everything, but he had something to accomplish.

Beastboy started to ask her a question. "Do you mind if I go ahead of you? It's just that I have to get..."

"Yes! Please go in front!" Her eyes shot open and she yelled out, cutting him off before he could finish.

"Oh!" He was a bit surprised, but he didn't wait around. He stepped forwards, bypassing the first person. The man in front of her waved Beastboy in front of him, almost begging to be at the back of the line. He found surprising that everyone was so eager to have him go ahead, it was never like that back on Earth.

The castle grew in size as he walked closer to it, making it appear as though it had stood for many thousand years and would keep standing for many thousand more.

It wasn't long before he reached the gates and the souls occupying the line were more than happy to let him pass. This was the place where all souls come to be judged. It made sense that if their judgment could be forestalled even for a moment, they would let someone pass without a second thought.

As he passed the threshold of the castle, Beastboy gasped at what he saw. The inside of the castle was completely different than what he just saw, turning from medieval stonework to twentieth century construction. He basically walked into a large courtroom, the line of people leading up to a stand and a judge overlooking all with a glint in his eye and a gavel in his hand. The nameplate read 'Minos'.

**"Terrence Wittering. For the terrible crime of fratricide, I sentence you to the Fifth Circle of Hell, to live out eternity fighting your way to survive!"** The gavel slammed down on the stand and two cloaked figured dragged Terrance off into a dark corridor.

As soon as the man disappeared from view, a ding emanated from a contraption above him. When Beastboy looked up at it, he saw that there were red illuminated numbers lining the wall. As soon as the next soul went through, the number increased by one. Beastboy's eyes widened as he saw the full number. Over twenty billion souls had been condemned in this place.

He took another quick look around the place. "Why does this place look like a cheap version of a courtroom?" He muttered to himself.

_"Do you really want to know?"_ He heard in reply. His doppelganger didn't want to appear in the middle of this mess and Beastboy couldn't blame him. A simple nod sufficed as an approval. _"This is another dimension, one you're not used to. Your mind tries to rationalize it in terms it can understand. In this case, what you can understand is a courtroom. The reality is much more horrifying."_

Beastboy thought about it. It was probably the same when he encountered the Gates of Hell, they wouldn't really say 'Life and Death' on them. "I'll take your word for it. Truth be told, I prefer my version."

As he's standing in the corner talking to himself Minos pointed a clawed finger in his direction. **"OY! What are you doing out there? Staff entrance is in the back!" **His thumb jerked to a door behind him.

Beastboy quickly shifted his way towards it, hoping to avoid any closer inspection. He knew that the fact that he was possessed by an entity of Trigon could be detected by other demons, but he had to keep a low profile. The last thing he needed was to be captured and interrogated.

The judge gave a menacing glare to the superhero as he shuffled away from him. **"What the Hell is wrong with you? Are you the embodiment of stupidity or something?" **He yelled out.

He rushed to the back and closes the door behind him panting. The darkness filled the space as he left the courtroom. He let out a sigh of relief as he had just avoided a close call. All of a sudden, his mouth got covered by a hand and he got dragged off into the darkness.

* * *

He woke up bound to a chair inside of a small, windowless room. The walls were covered in red velvet with black pearls lining the corners and furniture. Metal lined a cabinet off to the side, but it was a very spartan room.

There was a metal door embedded in the wall with bars crossing the threshold. It was clear that it was meant to keep people in... or out.

His doppelganger stood in the corner, just mulling around, trying to work out how they both got there.

Just as he was staring in its direction, he could hear soft locks being withdrawn of the door. The door opened, giving way to a figure cloaked in black.

"You have no right to restrain me! I protest!" Beastboy demanded. He wanted to know who did this to him.

"You don't belong here." The figure steps into view, delicate mouth visible underneath an otherwise all encompassing hood. "Why are you here?"

"Who are you?" He asked.

She lifted her hood, revealing a very familiar face. It appeared to be Raven, but with four glowing crimson eyes. He smiled as he thought that his long journey had come to an end. Or at least it would have been, if not for a tiny nagging feeling at the back of his mind.

He saw her demonic eyes before, and they were violet, not red. Her facial expression indicated that she didn't recognize him, her body posture all wrong. "You're not her. You're not Raven."

Asmodea smirked. This was perfect. She could receive payment from Raven's outstanding debt and get some fresh meat. She had been playing with the same toys for months now and they were starting to get old. "How do you know? It's been two years since she came here. Things have changed a great deal."

He mouthed two years in disbelief. He silently cursed himself for taking so long.

"She must mean a great deal, for you to travel all the way down here."

Beastboy raised his chin in defiance. "Why should I tell you anything? I've been trained to resist torture."

"Because I can tell you where to find your beloved Raven."

"So tell me."

Asmodea crossed her arms in front of her. "To receive something, you must give up something equivalent in return."

" And what do I have to give you?"

" I want your knowledge and your... Services."

Beastboy stared at her intensely. "Pick one. If we're doing it your way, one thing is equal to one."

"Unfortunately you're paying for two people."

How does she know, he thought to himself. He looked over at his doppelgänger quickly, who shrugged his shoulders and shook his head. "So long as you do your part."

Her heart skipped a beat. There it was, she had him. The beating resumed with increased vigor, compensating for what it lost and preparing for what she knew was next. Asmodea shuffled closer to him. "People who are owed something always pay their own debts. I'm one of those people."

He moved his hands around a bit, forcing the chains to clink together noticeably. "Can you untie me so we can get this over with?"

She strode over to him and massaged his cheek. "You don't need to move to pay me. Just relax and let me do all the work."

Beastboy felt apprehension at what was happening, but if he wanted to know where Raven was, he had to do it. The idea didn't necessarily appall him. He had no problem procreating with many people, but there were social considerations to make.

Society dictated, and he agreed, that a man and a woman was sufficient companionship for life. But he had a mission, a goal that he would do anything for, cross every boundary and break every rule for. And if he had to satiate this woman's desires to achieve it, well it wasn't so bad. Another thought popped into his mind. They were in a world dedicated to Lust. Why not?

Beastboy accepted the concept of what the demoness was offering, but was still quite skeptical. If he didn't get what he was promised, he had a trump card that would make sure that he did. And if anything, his counterpart wouldn't say anything against it.

His head sank in acceptance, signaling to the demoness that he was willing and able. A part of him enjoyed it. Being submissive, being told what to do and how to do it. Part of him wanted to be domesticated, to be the perfect pet, one that could never be thrown away or discarded. He could be loyal. He could be subservient.

Asmodea didn't waste any time with him. He was merely fresh meat to her, a raw source of sustainment that needed to be tenderized and warmed up before she could gobble him whole. She grabbed his shirt in her claws and ripped it to shreds, green skin showing beneath every scrap of fabric torn away.

She ran her hands over his bare chest, electricity rushing through her fingers at his warmth. He felt so... Alive, something she had never known before. Her entire empire was founded on souls of the damned and the depraved, breaking those who submitted to their primal urges into willing slaves and eager servants. It had been so long since she encountered such a strong spirit and this one was so very vibrant. She would have to make this memorable.

She grabbed his shoulders and used them as leverage as she swung herself into a straddling position, resting herself on his thighs. "Is that a tail between your legs or are you happy to see me?"

Beastboy rolled his eyes back in pleasure, cool air colliding with his naked chest and a sexy woman warming his legs with her own. It would be impossible not to have an erection for him, his mind and body both going into sexual overdrive from the situation.

She smirked at his expressions, his face looked so innocent under her gaze. A delicacy that she would savor for as long as she could. Narrowing her eyes, she dug her fingers into his shoulders. "Your Mistress asked you a question."

Flinching from the pain but not backing away from it, he stared at her, two eyes joining with four. "...H... Happy. Very happy." He managed to stammer out. His mind wasn't thinking straight, he had to force his thoughts together to stay coherent for even a moment. All of the blood had left his brain and filled the protrusion between his legs. It expanded in his pants, the awkward angle making the sensation uncomfortable in the extreme.

She noticed his squirming and guessed that he was getting aroused, unbearably so. He looked so cute when he was in distress. She gently stroked her hands between his legs, touching every inch of his thighs until she reached the throbbing member struggling to grow to its full size.

A mischievous glint appeared in her eye and her fingers glided along the bulging surface of his pants. Without warning, she squeezed it with considerable ease, blood forcing its way out of his manhood and back into his body. His legs jolted involuntarily at the feeling and he groaned in discomfort with a hint of pleasure.

The blood found its way back into his pants and it strained against the tight fabric once more, stronger than ever. The twinges of pain streaked across his face while the demoness merely gloated at her power over him.

She stood up from her position and knelt at his feet, though not as a sign of obedience. She dragged one of her sharp claws along the pant line from hem to belt, cutting a seam in the otherwise seamless cloth. Stray bits of fiber sprung free from its previously tightly spun home, the sharp edge of the claw carefully slicing fabric, but not flesh.

"You're feeling uncomfortable. Tell me who else is with you and I'll make it easier for you."

Beastboy shook his head wildly. There was so much stimulation for him and the lack of following through made things increasingly unbearable. "No... No one else... No one..." He whispered. A whisper was all that he could manage in that position. His eyes were squeezed shut to divert his attention away from the strain below his waist.

Satisfied with his answer, Asmodea grabbed his pants with both hands and smiled. Using as much force as she could muster, she ripped the pants off of him, cloth tearing along the newly created seams. In one fluid motion, the trousers disappeared into nothing, showing strong green legs beneath them.

Now free of the prison that restrained it, his penis jumped out like a leprechaun at the end of a rainbow, enjoying its newfound freedom. Beastboy let out a shuddering sigh of relief. A great burden had been removed.

Asmodea stared at the newest member of their party with wonder. It seemed so alive!

Now free of the prison that restrained it, his penis jumped out like a leprechaun at the end of a rainbow, enjoying its newfound freedom. Beastboy let out a shuddering sigh of relief. A great burden had been removed.

Asmodea stared at the newest member of their party with wonder. It seemed so alive, almost begging for her undivided attention. So she did.

She took a small leather strap and tied it tightly to the base of his erection. She whispered into his ear. "For later."

"What is Raven to you?" She demanded, taking advantage of his vulnerable position.

His brow furrowed, trying to form thoughts through the relief of freedom he just earned. "What?" He managed to sputter out an answer, trying to find out why she was asking him questions at a time like this.

Asmodea roughly grabbed his hair and forced his head backwards, staring straight into his eyes. "This is an interrogation." She jabbed a bony finger into his ribcage. "And don't you forget it! What is she to you?"

He gasped at the pain and tried to squirm away from it, but she wouldn't let him. Refusing to comply with anything she said, he shook his head fiercely.

Rather than be shocked at the blatant denial, she felt a flush at his resistance. The slaves she had been working with for the last thousand cycles were so compliant that it got to be boring. His will was powerful and she reveled in it.

She gently massaged his chest, starting from the shoulders and working down from there. "This will get much easier if you just tell me. It's a harmless question. What do you have to lose?" she roughly grabbed his nipples and twisted, sending a shot of pain through the sensitive nerve endings.

He shut his eyes tightly and gritted his teeth in pain. "Everything!" He roared out in agony, trying to withstand the torture she was giving out.

The Princess of Lust released his flesh and smiled. "Was that so hard? You just answered both of my questions! We'll be done quickie if you continue like this."

He lowered his head in shame, but realized it was inevitable. He was trained for physical torture, not sexual frustration. He could barely keep his thoughts together, making it near impossible to think something through enough to lie. Dishonesty didn't come naturally to him.

"Answer the next question and you may get a reward!" Asmodea giggled. She loved this.

He turned his head so that he looked away from his captor. "Can't we just get it over with?" He begged.

She positioned a finger over his shoulder. "Not. Just. Yet." She tapped him after every word. To her, physical contact was very important and to him, it was very effective. "You may hate this, but your lower half is just loving it!" Her hand strayed to the tip of his manhood. "You should try thinking with it more often! You never regret it when you do." Her voice was enchanting and erotic. It flipped every switch he had in his body and he groaned at the rush of sensitivity.

She shifted her attention to the lower part of his body, his green member still erect and quivering. Beastboy felt her gaze and tried to shy away from it, but there was nowhere to go. Reaching down, she took as much as she could with one hand, fingertips barely joining around his girth.

The mere touch sent a steady stream of pleasure across his body, Beastboy shuddering as the only way to cope. Sex with some of the many fan girls was light and pleasurable. Sex with Starfire was long and fulfilling. So far, sex with Raven's half-sister was phenomenal, and they had just started.

She moved her hands to his head and stroked his hair, threading sharp fingers along his scalp and through his forest green hair. In a swift motion, she grabbed the scruff of his neck in one hand and held his jaw in the other. Beastboy gave a slight whine when she did, but tried to hold his own.

"I've been told that you entered through the Door of Orpheus. How did you open it?" This question she was particularly interested in. Orpheus was a myth even amongst demons and to have it confirmed as the truth was amazing. She could now say that she knew how to open it and who went through.

Beastboy squirmed in her grasp. "Do you really have to know?" He didn't fancy the idea of a demon knowing a doorway into or possibly out of Hell.

Asmodea tightened her grip on him. "This is my realm and you are my possession. I will get the information out of you one way or another, so it is up to you if I give a reward for telling me or give a punishment until you do!"

He was taken aback at her determination and actually felt fear for the first time. This one was serious. "The... Horn of the Herald."

Her pupils dilated when she heard the words. She knew exactly what it was and thoughts passed across her mind quickly. She didn't think that trumpets produced the most beautiful song in the world, but it did open portals to other places. He was telling the truth. He eyes strayed back to him and she purred. "I did mention something about a reward, didn't I?"

Beastboy's eyes widened as the demoness leaned forwards and gave him a full snog on the lips. He could hardly believe that a half-naked demon of Lust was kissing him, her breasts pressing into his chest, her arms running along his back, her thighs rubbing against his... However she was doing it, it was the most sensual thing he had ever experienced.

The kiss ended just as it began and Beastboy had to admit that it left him wanting more. She slowly exhaled while biting his lower lip, a signature she had perfected years ago.

She wanted to see every part of him and his ears intrigued her. She had never seen pointed ears before and to have then right before her eyes was something she never thought possible. Asmodea moved closer to his ear and whispered into it. "Are you alone?"

Hair stood up at the back of his neck as her breath flowed over his skin. His ears peaked at the sound of her voice and a shiver ran down his spine. A slight twitch of apprehension also tugged at him, a small nagging curiosity as to her question. "Why do you want to know?"

Her brow furrowed and she bit the earlobe that was right beside her. Sharp fangs tore into the cartilage and drew a small amount of blood, which Asmodea happily lapped up. "One of my slaves told me that you were talking to someone. Who was it?"

He flinched at the pain, but it didn't affect him as much as he would have thought. There was just a throbbing feeling, a pulsing light that joined with the flare of his arousal. "Myself. I was talking to myself."

She rose from her straddling position and walked behind him. She draped her arms across his chest, giving him a great many new sensations. Warmth across his chest from her arms, cushiony feeling on his neck from her breasts, and tingling on his sensitive ears as she breathed into them. "Every demon can sense their own kind. How is it that I can feel something from you?"

He paused for a moment. How was he going to explain it to her? He couldn't just say that he was possessed, could he? His thoughts were interrupted when she dragged her claws along his chest. The sound and feeling of bone against skin distracted him from himself. It also meant that she wanted an answer. "A demon tortured me for a short time... Maybe some of it rubbed off."

She purred into his ear. "Maybe the wrong demon rubbed you off!" She smiled at her own joke and his breath grew more haggard at her suggestion. "Remember their name?"

"T...Trigon."

Her grip on him tightened at the mention of her father's name, though it only lasted a moment. Satisfied that she got all of her answers, she withdrew her hands back to her side. "Open your mouth." She commanded. He obeyed without a single thought. In a quick motion, her hands shot around his face and a thick gag was forced into his mouth.

He tried to bite the large ball in his mouth, but the material was too strong and the object too thick. His eyes looked around the room, trying to see the demoness that now had him bound and gagged.

Asmodea stepped into view with a smile of fangs adorning her face. She bent forwards until she was just inches away from his face. "One final question for you. Are you ready?"

Beastboy struggled against his bonds to no avail and spoke with a soft humming. With no other way of communicating with her, he shook his head furiously in an attempt to stop her. It didn't work.

"Oh, that's right. You don't have a choice!" She walked so that she was directly above his quivering erection. "Scream for me." She whispered and pushed herself onto him with all of her force.

Beastboy felt like he was in paradise. All of the sexual frustration he was forced to endure was instantly forgotten. The feeling of warmth wrapping around him completely overwhelmed him. His eyes rolled back in pleasure and he surrendered to her completely.

Asmodea loved this. The power that came from controlling someone completely. The man beneath her could think of nothing but the princess of Lust herself. He couldn't do anything without her permission. He couldn't talk without her consent. He wouldn't even be able to climax unless she desired it. He was entirely in the palm of her hand.

She moved of her own volition, moving him in and out of her with immense control. Every thrust was her choice and every squeeze was her decision. All Beastboy could do was take it, whether he liked it or not.

Almost immediately, he was pushed to his climax, but found out quite harshly that he was unable to. The strap around his base was so tight that it restricted both blood flow and the ability to ejaculate. The pain was excruciating and the pleasure was unbearable. His senses were overwhelmed and he couldn't shut them out. The gag made it impossible to swallow and saliva dribbled out of his mouth uncontrollably.

She felt the effects too and the pleasure of her new toy was incomparable to anything else she had ever felt. Demons were powerful in the sack, which led to a conflict of dominance whenever they mated. The souls damned to the second circle were too obedient. Minds already broken by a life lead by sin and debauchery grew old quickly.

This green boy beneath her was so... Alive. So strong. So confident. So... Brave for willfully travelling into Hell. All that personality, and he felt so good in her. She leant forwards and lay on top of him. Their chests rested on each other, providing both parties with the added warmth of their aroused bodies.

She started impaling herself faster than she did before. Her arms swung around him and gripped tightly. She wanted to feel every inch of him.

He loved the extra contact. He always enjoyed how intimate it felt. That's what he liked about Starfire, she was all about physical contact. That's why he liked Raven, deep down she was compassionate. That's why this felt so good. His jaw strained against his gag and his muscles strained against their bonds, but he couldn't stop the second orgasm that crawled its way through him.

She felt his erection grow and pulse rapidly. He was denied a second climax. If he were ungagged, he would be practically begging for her to release him, and she would. He wouldn't be able to hold it for much longer anyways, she would have to alleviate his pain in a moment.

Beastboy felt extremely sensitive even now and was brought to his third almost instantly. He strained against every bond that held him steady. She could feel his tenacity and wanted to keep him steady, if only for a moment. He felt her claws dig into his back and he felt his own liquid dribbling down from it, but he didn't care.

The pain only made his blood flow faster, forcing its way into every extremity with frightening force. The strap dug even tighter into him, but he could feel it slowly giving way. Any second now, it was going to snap and he would be free.

She could feel the end approaching and she was more than satisfied with what he paid. She rammed down as hard as she could, pushing him deep into her core. Almost by divine intervention, the strap broke, allowing him to finally explode into her.

His breathing was haggard and his heart felt like it was going to rip out of his chest. That was by far the best sex he had ever had. He could get used to the whole BDSM scene.

Asmodea got up immediately and made the motion of dusting herself off. She had enjoyed herself but one of the perks of being a demon included almost instant recovery. She gathered the discarded clothing from the floor and untied her captive from the chair.

"You will find your beloved Raven in the 9th circle. She goes there every day, so she will find you. Some clothes are folded in the cabinet and your effects are with them."

With that, the demoness left the room, leaving Beastboy to his lamentations. It took a while for him to recover, but it wasn't long before he was on his feet. He knelt down on the floor and retrieved what was left of his pants. He breathed a sigh of relief as he felt the sharp metal object concealed in his pants.

He gathered his clothes and left the room in a hurry. He knew his destination now and he had to make haste. It was a long journey to the ends of the Nine Hells, but he had to do it. He had to save the Raven who sacrificed herself for them. He had to rescue the Raven who resigned herself to damnation. He had to join with her again, to see her again, even if it were only just once more. Now it was onto the third circle, to face the sin of Gluttony straight in the face.

**To Be Continued**

**Disclaimer: I do not own any character or location in the DC Universe. This is and always shall be a work of fiction that I am not profiting from in the slightest.**

**I'm terrible at writing these things, but I had to. This chapter took much longer than I thought it would and I apologize. I am trying to get this complete in an orderly fashion, so please bear with me.  
**

**Amenson out. **


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter IV: Gluttony**

**Previously:** _With that, the demoness left the room, leaving Beastboy to his lamentations. It took a while for him to recover, but it wasn't long before he was on his feet. He knelt down on the floor and retrieved what was left of his pants. He breathed a sigh of relief as he felt the sharp metal object concealed in his pants._

_He gathered his clothes and left the room in a hurry. He knew his destination now and he had to make haste. It was a long journey to the ends of the Nine Hells, but he had to do it. He had to save the Raven who sacrificed herself for them. He had to rescue the Raven who resigned herself to damnation. He had to join with her again, to see her again, even if it were only just once more. Now it was onto the third circle, to face the sin of Gluttony straight in the face._

A gruesome scene unfolded before Beastboy's eyes. A scene of horror and dread. A scene that made him tremble in fear. A feeling arose in him, one of pain and anguish. Even though he wasn't anywhere near the slaughtering grounds, he could feel himself being right in the thick of it.

He knew that this dimension was inhabited with all manner of dangerous creatures. They all were. The universe he left behind was filled with monsters that beggared belief. Even the dimension that the Herald called home was populated with beasts unknown, archaic beings that couldn't be compared with anything else.

Natural order and evolution had no effect here. There was no circle of life to follow, only to be predator or prey. There was a food chain to follow with only two links, a system that made travel through Hell all the more foreign.

He knew he was entering a circle dedicated to the punishment of the gluttony of others. He knew the most effective punishment of the guilty souls was to be feasted on themselves, but not like this. Not to trip over fallen bodies of others in a feeble attempt to escape. Not to have their bone wrenching screams lost in the buffeting sleet and hail. Not to be helpless for the entirety of eternity against a malevolent foe whose hunger was never satiated.

He had to watch in horror as a thousand hounds were set upon the helpless, as they systematically tore limb from limb and moved onto the next victim in line. Flesh torn by the canines quickly mended and they were set on again by the terrifying monstrosities.

As much as he wanted to help the weak and suffering, he couldn't. It wouldn't be his place to deny the punishment that the condemned brought upon themselves. He wouldn't even be able to begin without bring set on himself.

His heart froze. His ear twitched. He drew a long breath through his nose and realized that he just entered something's territory. The smell of possession stretched as far as he could make out. It smelled big. And dangerous.

Out of nowhere, the hair stood on the back of his neck and his survival reflex kicked in. He somersaulted forwards, narrowly dodging the outstretched paws of the massive creature that tried to pounce on him. Immediately, he shifted into a massive saber tooth tiger and spun around, stretching into the most intimidating stance he could.

The action stunned the attacker for a moment, allowing Beastboy to identify it. Razor sharp claws, thick black fur matted with blood and chain marks, a forked tail, six rows of razor sharp teeth, six nostrils flared in anger, and six eyes filled with nothing but fury. Every attribute pointed to one possible answer. Cerberus.

It stood its ground and made it clear that Beastboy was not supposed to mess with it. It glared at the green man with harrowing eyes, trying to identify it, place it into the only categories it knew. The Hellhound sorted things three ways, what to kill, what to obey, and what to avoid. The only problem was, this creature before it fit into all three. One defining feature it could determine about the green feline was that it didn't belong in the third circle.

Beastboy reverted back into human form and just stared at the beast, trying to understand it. As with any animal he read about or encountered, he could become it.

His eyes quickly ran over the beast, taking note of everything that mattered. The way it breathed determined how big the lungs were, the way it stood determined bone structure and muscle density, the amount of depression in the ground determined overall mass, and the heat rolling off it determined a general idea of how its metabolism worked.

Changing into a new creature always felt slow and drawn out, as if the form was burrowing its way into him rather than the other way around. Once he held the image in his mind, it worked itself out, instinct guiding the way. Sometimes he was extremely grateful for it. If he could control every feature of transformation, who knows what chimeric abominations would ensue. He'd have died of some mutilation-related accident long ago.

He started the process as he normally would, imagining being the canine. The change came almost immediately and Beastboy had the familiar feeling of fur on his body and dirt under all of his padded feet. The tail was non-existent though, a rarity amongst most kinds of dogs.

One thing was for sure though. This was no ordinary dog. The bones were thicker, the eyes filled with indescribable and unreserved rage, muscles bulging, fur standing up as if every follicle was as sharp as a claw. He could feel unnatural energy seep into him from all around, only empowering his already deadly form.

He stamped a paw firmly on the ground to test his new strength and see his body without even opening his eyes. The image shocked and frightened him. Every part of the body was designed to kill. Every organ had a purpose to inflict more pain and suffering.

He opened his eyes onto the world and gasped. Every creature had a different way of looking on the world. Cats and birds could see even the smallest of movements, accentuating them to determine if they were prey or predator. Creatures of the sea relied on surfaces, figuring out where they could go and where to avoid. Not for this one.

Everything was identified. Everything was scrutinized. Every mammal was judged: If it moved, kill it. If it had energy within it, obey it. If it didn't do either or if it did both, avoid it. He seemed to not fit into any of the categories, and yet all of them at the same time.

Even the mind itself was terrifying. Usually Beastboy could communicate with other animals, or at least make it known that he wasn't a threat. He couldn't do the same with the legendary canine before him. It was impossible.

Cerberus was no animal. It was a machine, a representation of every desire to kill, mutilate, and maim the deserving. It hadn't even been broken or trained by its demonic masters, they didn't need to. It was already the most vicious creatures in existence, why alter it?

It looked at the snarling hellhound and every instinct told him to back away slowly. He was hopelessly outmatched and the best result to hope for was a standoff. Beastboy bristled his fur and resisted the urge to run away yelping, standing his ground.

Another moment of consideration was all that it took to satisfy the Hellhound and it retreated back to the roiling plains, eager to return to dismembering all in sight.

As it pounded away, Beastboy felt something missing. He realized almost immediately that he only had one head, vastly different to the three headed beast he just encountered. Three heads wasn't something that was easy to mimic, but the proof of the possibility was standing in front of him just now. Why was it that he didn't have the same attributes?

He was able to replicate the forms of some of the most difficult creatures, ranging from prehistoric to alien. Some of them had a dozen legs, others had none. Some of them had were creatures of the sea and others could survive in the vacuum of space. Never before had he encountered an animal that he wasn't able to mimic perfectly and the fact shocked him to the core.

The threat was now gone, so Beastboy turned back into a human and walked over to the bag he dropped as he transformed. The horn inside was undamaged, a source of comfort for the green hero. He doubted that an object of such immense power could possibly get crushed or destroyed, but he didn't want to take any chances. It allowed him to enter Hell and it may be the only way to leave it.

The Herald was a generous and benevolent addition to the superhero network and Beastboy was increasingly glad that they knew each other. He had made a sort of deal with the honorary Titan, something to prove his ability to use the Horn. It had been easy enough to find him, a call through the Titans network provides nearly instantaneous connection, used in cases of substantial or dire need.

The situation he was in certainly warranted the nature of the call. The Earth was tearing itself apart and need was widespread, extraordinary or otherwise. Every hero was on-call in their respective sector, a testament to the effectiveness of the superhero network.

He came directly to Beastboy, one of the benefits of being able to create a portal to anywhere in eight dimensions. The greeting was brief but welcomed. It was always nice to see a friendly face after so long. It hadn't been since the events of the brotherhood that they had seen each other, a travesty when considering how well they worked together.

It didn't matter though, Beastboy wanted only one thing from the trumpeteer and he would do anything to get it. He had to explain everything to the Herald to get him to know the situation and for the most part he understood. It was quite shocking to hear the chain of events that followed a single eclipse, including the deaths of so many of his compatriots. As a hero, the Herald understood that the life they lead was full of sacrifices, mortal and emotional.

A deal was struck: For the sake of their history and status, Herald would allow Beastboy to learn how to use an interdimensional trumpet, after which the deal would be done and they would go their separate ways. A deal that the green hero readily accepted. He was desperate to learn and if everything fell into place, journeying through Hell would be that much easier.

It was incredibly hard to get the handle of the powerful horn. It certainly wasn't made easy by the Herald's method of training. His version of events consisted of dropping a completely inexperienced person into a dangerous situation they couldn't control and force them to fend for themselves. Vastly different to the rigorous training practices both Mento and Robin employed.

He went to the Herald in good faith, a genuine request from an ally against the forces of darkness. What he got was completely unexpected. As far as he was aware, the dimension he was dropped in had no name. The creatures had no name either, they couldn't after all. Whoever was unfortunate enough to get trapped there wouldn't stay sane long enough to name anything.

The creatures that inhabited the lost area beggared belief. To the untrained eye, it looked like giant floating jellyfish. Beastboy certainly wasn't untrained. He knew that inter-dimensional beings had to survive in extreme conditions and be able to fend for itself amongst terrifying beasts that shared the domain.

This was a common trait amongst almost every ecosystem and it was one that the changeling knew well. In most cases, he could become the form of the main predator of the place he was in and avoid most, if not all confrontations. If only that worked in the Human world.

Beastboy quickly discovered that his usual tactics of intimidation didn't work as well as he would have liked. His most fearsome forms had no effect on the multicolored life forms, doing nothing to deter the constant flow of creatures.

The usual reverie he employed had to change. This wasn't one of the safe training exercises used by the Doom Patrol or the Teen Titans. This was deadly and dangerous. This was survival of the fittest, eat or be eaten. Even one mistake could mean his end.

He reverted to the basics. Instinct would be his guide. It never led him astray, able to judge who he could fight and who he had to run away from. He was able to fend the creatures off, using the more agile creatures to out maneuver the mysterious floating tentacle creatures enough to escape their clutches. He used his larger flying forms to move quickly between the floating islands and find suitable hiding spaces, clutching the trumpet tightly in his talons. He used the cold blooded animals in his arsenal when he slept, as it seemed like the creatures were sensitive to body heat.

Every moment not sort fleeing the wildlife or sleeping in tight crevices was spent trying to blow the horn. Usually he'd be making cracks about it all day, but every sense was tuned towards sensing attacks or proximity to wildlife he couldn't survive. It didn't help that he was tone deaf and never used any kind of brass instrument previously. It also didn't help that the sound of his failed raspberries drew the attention of the local populace and was quickly on the run again.

By the third day of being stranded, he was exhausted. A grand total of four hours of sleep and constant fleeing does that to a person. His eyes were aching, his muscles quickly followed suit, and he was in a daze. One thing kept him together though. He had to live.

There was a reason for his being there. There was a reason that he allowed the Herald to transport him to another dimension with nothing but a metal horn to defend him. There was a reason he fought so fiercely to survive even in this den of horrors.

Raven.

He had a plan, an mission, and a promise to keep. He vowed to get his teammate back from the ravages of the underworld. How could he not? She saved him from dying countless times on the team as well as freeing him from the demon that possessed him. Mostly. It had been reduced from a full blown personality trying in earnest to make his life miserable to a calm and reasonable opinion in the background, but he only had Raven to thank. The half-demoness had been vital to how the world was now. If not for her, the Earth would be just a hunk of molten magma floating around an unforgiving sun. And since the people wouldn't save their savior, he vowed to do it himself.

This realization snapped him back into reality. He was able to step back and look at things from a distance. He remembered the time spent with the Herald against the Brain, remembered how he acted and fought.

The superhero spent all of his time there and his fighting style was designed to fend off these creatures. Beastboy had to be flexible and quick. He had to be able to leap small rocks in a single bound. He had to greet his adversaries as equals instead of running away with his tail between his legs. And he had to do this in his Human form.

The new tactic worked like a charm and when before a single jellyfish gave him trouble, a dozen could be handled with ease. His reliance on his real body also allowed more time to practice on the trumpet, and he found it much easier to summon portals when he remembered he didn't have to do a whole song and dance.

The portals formed were wobbly and unstable at first, but quickly stayed open for longer periods of time. He was soon able to use the horn while fighting, using the portals to banish the native creatures to a foreign location, whether in the same dimension or a deeper one.

A week had passed by the time Beastboy became comfortable with the horn and the use of it. The supernatural instrument was incredibly powerful and useful. If his theory about how to use it was correct, there would be nothing standing in his way. No human, no demon, and no deity of any kind could deter him from going forwards.

By the time that he used a portal to return to the mortal plane, his training was complete and he had to return the horn. The Herald was very understanding of his plight, but very insistent that he return the horn. Beastboy was reluctant to do so, but did so anyways. He'd have to figure something out one way or another.

He snapped back to where he really was: the circle of Gluttony, so far the most gruesome scene he had witnessed yet. He would have to find his way to the next circle down quickly. The last thing he needed was to get into a fight with even one of the hellhounds. That was one creature he could never get away from or triumph in one piece.

* * *

The city of Dis was an ever-changing metropolis of magnificent architecture and innovation. Every structure was designed to strike fear into the weak hearted and inspire the evil to do worse. There wasn't a single wall that was completely open and exposed. Each of them had some kind of devious contraption attached to it or some kind of torture device near it. It wasn't uncommon to see the skeleton of some poor, unfortunate soul adorning a doorway somewhere.

Raven made a point to go on frequent walks and admire the immense work that went into it, the blood of billions of slave working tirelessly to build a place where they would be tortured and humiliated in the way they deserved for a lifetime of sin. Her human self would probably cringe at the sight of most of the spectacles around her. It was a good thing she wasn't fully human or demon. She was more powerful than both.

She was the embodiment of Fury, a far cry from the human side that could smack two coconuts together and the demon that could inspire pride in her opponents. She was the heir to the nine Hells, princess of Rage and Beauty, master of everything beneath the red sky.

The time spent walking the battlements was always done cautiously, as even though a couple of years had passed for the hybrid demon, almost every other creature and being trumped her for overall experience. There were those that were at her every beck and call, eager to obey any command she even whispered. There were also those that would see her gone.

Her arrival in Hell wasn't widely accepted by adoring masses. If anything, she was regarded with a modicum of suspicion and disgust. A half-breed that renounced her demonic heritage who sacrificed herself to save the world by using a forbidden magic to return to Hell. Some residents of the infernal realms saw this as a travesty, an ungrateful relative of the boss who didn't deserve the slightest bit of attention. So when she was named inheritor of the Throne of Terror, it sparked a great deal of envy and hatred towards her.

Who was she to be eligible for such an inheritance? How does someone who defied Trigon the Terrible so much and so often get to be so powerful and so feared? Why does someone who has barely existed for a couple of decades get control of an empire that would last a thousand thousand generations? What right does a backwater half-breed have to take the rights from a proven, pure-blooded demon and a true child of Trigon?

Every ounce of interest in her shot either way. Either she was adored and feared or she was despised and hated. Not that it mattered to her in any way. Her many years on both Azarath and Earth had made her detached when it came to others opinions of her, both negative and positive. The occasional compliment was able to make her spirit soar a bit higher, but was for the most part ignored. She couldn't care less what others said about her, she was very sure of herself and she would be damned if she let a few words tear down the foundation she spent years forming.

A small blur passed in front of her face and embedded into the wall beside her. She was in enough battles to know the sound of a weapon colliding with a wall and immediately entered a battle stance. Her eyes, now trained around her, searched for the would-be assassins.

The outline of four shadowy figures were silhouetted against the walls, first disguised as gargoyles overlooking the alley. Now revealed, they quickly left the perches they mounted and dropped to street level.

Wary of the fact that she was outnumbered, she readied herself, gathering her black magic around her hands. They wasted no time and began their assault, each of them taking out small daggers and throwing them with precision. Raven put up a protective shield around her, stopping the weapons from reaching their target. She then shot forwards, eager to eliminate the competition.

She knew that the best way to defeat a large number of attackers was to take out one at a time while doing your best to not get killed in the meantime. The attacker at her front had little time to react as she ran towards him and sent a punch in his direction.

The fist connected with his chin and sent him flying to the opposite side of the street, head colliding with the stone of a wall. Unfazed by the removal of their companion, the three remaining demons dropped the small appendages and drew three nasty-looking blades concealed behind their backs.

Raven turned to face them, four violet eyes blazing with Fury. She smiled with teeth bare and hungry. She missed this. A black tendril shot towards the attackers, hoping to impale one unfortunate enough to be caught in its path. The demons dove out of the way too quickly to be struck and rushed towards her, blades at the ready.

As they closed in on her, she withdrew the dark energy surrounding her. She was going to make the most of this, facing them without weapons or powers. The first edge to reach her swung high and she gracefully ducked to avoid it. The next one fell towards her right side, aiming to hit her right arm. She dodged left, making the sword miss and hit the floor with a shrill thud.

The first one recovered quickly and thrust the blade at her, skimming the edge of her leotard and catching in the fabric of her cloak. She brought her elbow down on the exposed hand , shattering two metacarpal bones and forcing the demon to drop the sword. It staggered back, clutching the injured extremity as Raven snatched the handle of the blade before it could hit the ground.

She used her new weapon to parry the blade of the third attacker, who just joined the battle. Her expertly honed skills allowed her to spar with the two armed demons with lightning speed. The movements were fast and powerful, the result of both intense training and a weapon that was considerably lighter than she was used to.

The outnumbered assault turned into an even match, a shower of sparks falling from the many clashes of steel against steel. The demons fatigued as they were not expecting a lengthy battle, movements slowly getting weaker and sloppier. In a final attempt to gain the upper hand, they synchronized their blows.

She quickly found it impossible to defend against blows coming from completely opposite directions, so she jumped up into the air, boosted by her powers, and landed on the terrace where her attackers once occupied.

As soon as they jumped up to join her, the one closest to her found out the hard way how being kicked off a rooftop felt when landing face first. Raven faced off with the last one left, circling the demon weapon in hand. She rushed forwards and used both hands to grasp the blade. The extra power given to her by the better grip pounded down on the demon, creature desperately trying to deflect the harsh blows she rained on it.

As Raven advances, the demon stumbled back, eventually tripping on its own feet and falling on its backside. In one fell stroke, she hit the sword with so much force that it was torn from its grip and flung down into the alley she was just patrolling. Stepping firmly, she strode in front of the fallen enemy and held the sword above its throat.

"Who sent you?" She demanded. Someone tried to kill her and she needed to know who to crush.

It didn't move from its defeated position and squinted at her, making it clear it wasn't going to admit anything. She withdrew the sword and plunged it into the demons chest, blood trickling from the wound and moans from the mouth.

"I won't ask again."

The creature clutched at the wound, trying to stop the bleeding and numb the pain. Raven laughed at the feeble attempt and dug the blade even further into the wound. It grimaced and looked at her with hate in its eyes. While staring at her, its eyes darted ever so slightly to her left.

She swung the blade in a full arc, twirling around to kill the demon sneaking up behind her. The blade sank deep into the ribs of the creature, burying itself so far into its organs that she couldn't rip it out again.

Raven panted from the exertion of the fight and turned back to the one she was interrogating before, only to find that it was dead, eyes shot and ears bleeding. She looked around, trying to find the one who did it, but found nothing.

"What the..." She muttered. Raven was puzzled. The fight ended almost as quickly as it began and she was no closer to finding out who was responsible. A slight fluttering was heard from behind her and she whirled around, powers at the ready. A gasp came from her throat as she recognized the figure that appeared behind her.

"Azar?"

**This took way too long to post. The only good thing to come from it was the plot line. I was able to make the events in the following chapters concrete as well as a possible 'Trilogy of Chains' if the stars align. Greed to follow in a timely fashion.**

**I originally intended to put someone from Garfield's life in every chapter, but I quickly discovered it would be very difficult if not downright impossible. There will be a few people vital to the storyline, but no one else.**


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter V: Greed**

**Previously: **_She swung the blade in a full arc, twirling around to kill the demon sneaking up behind her. The blade sank deep into the ribs of the creature, burying itself so far into its organs that she couldn't rip it out again._

_Raven panted from the exertion of the fight and turned back to the one she was interrogating before, only to find that it was dead, eyes shot and ears bleeding. She looked around, trying to find the one who did it, but found nothing._

_"What the..." She muttered. Raven was puzzled. The fight ended almost as quickly as it began and she was no closer to finding out who was responsible. A slight fluttering was heard from behind her and she whirled around, powers at the ready. A gasp came from her throat as she recognized the figure that appeared behind her._

_"Azar?"_

A man stood atop a high cliff overlooking a lake. A most high cliff, the rock face towering taller than any man made structure over a body of water bigger than any ocean. A most terrible lake, water stained black with the rot of an innumerable amount of sin and desire. A testament to the color that greed taints the soul with.

A more fitting border to the circle could not be devised, the souls condemned forced to carry their possessions with them wherever they went. Any man, woman, or child would sink with their treasures the second they fell into the water. And yet this would have to be traversed if he ever wanted to descend deeper into the abyss. An impossibility that was confirmed just by looking at it.

The punishment for Greed reminded him heavily of the Christmas Carol where the ghost of Marley had to carry chains everywhere he went, their weight a constant source of shame and agony.

He had always been able to understand the greed that some people possessed, not everyone was blessed with superpowers or a practically limitless inheritance. Some people had to work their entire lives just to survive on their own, a tragedy in a steadily shrinking economy. Some hoarded valuables, shoring them against the oncoming tide of poverty. Some stole as the only solution for survival, the main reason he had a job as defender of the law.

He never understood the need to hoard possessions, keep them safe and away from prying eyes. Sure he knew how to prepare for hard times. He had turned into creatures that hibernated, giving him the subconscious urge to eat more during the fall season and store food for later, but it was a means for survival. He had been a magpie for a short time, finding shiny trinkets to make his home a bit prettier. Nothing in the natural order of things forced any kind of race to see who had the most. The trait was only found in humanity, the hole that could never be filled.

"You won't be able to swim across it. Not without losing everything."

Beastboy nodded absent-mindedly, a great many thought rushing through his head. The green lemur staring over the edge wasn't much cause for worry as his doppelganger made appearances rather frequently.

"That isn't just water. It's been sitting around for millions of years, stagnating and absorbing the dead flesh of millions thrown in without a second thought."

Beastboy had a hard time believing that he had reached a dead end after all this time. He had gone through too much to just be stopped by a bit of water. He trained for a week in one of the most hostile environments in existence, struck a deal with a Satan-worshipping cult, and stole a priceless and limitless artifact from one of the most secure facilities on the planet.

He brushed a finger over the metal object concealed in his pant leg. The item was impossibly cool amidst the intense heat and humidity of the abyssal plane, radiating an aura of power and individuality. He sat down on the ledge of the mighty cliff and took it from its resting place.

The handle was short and cylindrical, a dead giveaway that it was supposed to be attached to a stick, but was long since removed. It gave way to a long, thin blade, more than a foot in length, narrowing to a sharp tip. The edge of the blade was unmarked and the length unmarred by any stains or dents, as if it was forged a mere moment before. A pale representation of what its true nature was.

While researching the entirety of what he could expect to find in all nine worlds of Hell, Beastboy looked into items that could help him should any unfortunate situation arise. He had the Horn of the Herald to open portals to the different worlds below, he had the medallion that Raven used to keep the demonic influence away, but he would be helpless if attacked by any of the hordes of demons patrolling the depths.

The bulk of his searching led to dead ends, any weaponry known to combat demons were found to be purely mythical or fictional. Any items claiming to have divine purpose or providence were useless or fragile. A rock, shroud, shard of wood, or cup would have next to no use for a man going through Hell. There were plenty of magically oriented swords and shields, but none had effective use against anything immortal.

There was one item he came across on several searches, but initially dismissed it as fantasy, too good to be true. Reports continued to crop up, so he decided to check it up on the Justice League's database. After confirming his identity, he was able to fully investigate it.

The Spear of Longinus was quite possibly the only true divine weapon on the planet that he could effectively use here. The legend went that the spear of an ordinary soldier was used to pierce the side of Christ. The divine blood endowed the spear with immense power and a destiny that would be unmatched.

There were several pieces of information that linked the current whereabouts of the spear to a museum in Vienna, but a footnote in the database stated that it was a fake. An item with such history attached to it could never be left in a simple museum, it had to be co9ntained where it would be safe and secure.

No actual resting place was listed on the computer he searched through, so he went into the archives of the space station and looked at the inventories of the most secure facilities the planet housed. The storage on the station itself had nothing suspicious in its contents. Neither did the presidential bunker in Washington or the archives under the Vatican. He was about to give up until he saw a small logo on the page he looked at. On it, he could make out the letters A.R.G.U.S..

Further searching led to the mother of all storage bunkers. The place was like Area 51 with registered equipment from over a hundred alien encounters and attacks from over a hundred year period. The more frequent attacks taking place recently only served to stockpile the already overflowing stores.

It took a relatively short time to locate the whereabouts of the facility and find the catalogue of items. The person who organized it was clearly a stickler for precision and Beastboy all but benefitted by it. The second he saw the number and location where the spear was kept, he logged off and rushed to the secret base.

The name itself was admirable. 'Advanced Research Group uniting Super-Humans' was a bit of a hassle to say and Beastboy suspected the acronym was decided long before the extended definition. The group was very secretive, completely contrary to the big show that came with most Justice League activity, probably why he had never heard of them before.

Geography was never his strong point, but he knew how to use a teleporter and he knew how to alter co-ordinates, useful since a short line of numbers was all that was given as to the placement of the base. He had gotten onto the station just past noon but by the time he got there, it was already nighttime. Perfect considering what he planned to do.

It was clear that an object that this solely unique object wouldn't be rented out to whoever needed to trim devilishly unwanted hairs. The reason it was there to begin with was to lock it up and throw away the key. Make absolutely sure it would never be used again. It was meant to be forgotten with the ages, to be just an object in myths and legends. Far from the reach of those who would use it for the benefit or hindrance of mankind.

Whoever held the Spear of Destiny could rule the world. Or became invincible. Accounts differed greatly on that subject. One thing all the stories shared was how it was coveted beyond logic and reason. The spear had changed hands countless times, carving a bloody path through a hundred different histories. The blade seemed to develop a taste for blood that could never be satiated.

Many great men acquired it and used in their quest for conquest and dominance. Men like Herod, Constantine, Charlemagne, Pope John XII, Henry the Sixth, Napoleon Bonaparte, and one Kaiser: Wilhelm, the last emperor of Germany.

The most recent and debatably most notorious proprietor was none other than one Adolf Hitler. He had many titles and positions over the decades he was in power. Intelligence agent, public speaker, politician, chancellor, supreme general, Führer, and member of the Thule society. He specialized in items of the occult, obsessed with objects with great power and separating fact from fiction.

His most prized possession was the spear, searching for it for two years before finally getting his hands on it. The acquisition of the weapon allowed Germany's power to grow exponentially and threatened to rule the world, the power of the spear was so intense. Once it left him, Hitler was quickly thwarted and defeated, the consequences of losing the most powerful weapon in the world. And now it rested in a box, waiting patiently to be used again.

Beastboy teleported on a hill overlooking the base, appearing crouched down with muscles bulging. All he needed were some sunglasses to complete the look.

If he didn't know what this place was, he'd easily mistake it for a forgotten factory or warehouse. He both knew and could see better than that. The simple fence surrounding the complex was sure to be titanium alloy and electrified, surrounded with a force field. The open field of the area had slight bulges not noticeable to those with ordinary vision, obviously containing hordes of landmines. The shabby guard station had what looked like a single sleeping guard, but it was either a fully alert mercenary or a robotic sentry.

Getting in would be easy. A simple shift to a dragonfly would allow him access to the facility, bypassing any anti-personnel traps and anti-vehicle barriers. The place was surprisingly well ventilated for a storage facility, but that afforded him very easy access into the main holding area.

His compound eyes gave him a very large survey of the building in a very short time. He was able to spot the number of the wooden box the spear was housed in and the path to the exit quickly and proceeded to fly to the destination he had looked for a long time.

Once in front of the box, he morphed back to his normal form and looked around. The situation he was in gave him a terrible sense of déjà vu. This reminded him of his earlier years, the ones he tried regularly to forget and leave behind.

From just a glance, he could tell that the twenty cameras hidden in dark corners and vents took a frame every six seconds. He knew that there were laser lines in the most common walkways throughout the complex that all fed back to a single inaccessible location. He knew that the box in front of him likely had a glass display case with pressure sensors lining the bottom. He knew all of this because he had seen these countermeasures before.

He never talked about the time he endured between the death of his parents and his admission into the Doom patrol, mainly because it would all but take away from his position as super-hero and upholder of the law. He was forced to break into all manners of secure locations, ranging from mansions to bank vaults. As much as he hated how the past affected the way he saw things, he never let it determine how others saw him or how he saw himself.

He pried the case carefully and like he suspected, it contained a glass case with an iron blade encased in a vacuum seal. The spear looked frighteningly normal but every instinct and sense of his told him that it was an incomparable force.

Beastboy thought that the people who constructed the warehouse were either too confident that the outside security was impenetrable or too lazy about structural designs. There were small windows lining the walls made of nothing thicker than a half-centimeter of sheet glass. It was clear that they were for lighting when the sun was in the sky, but there were plenty of light fixtures, more than enough to keep the whole building lit.

He estimated that there were about fifteen meters to cover between the case and one of these windows as well as a steep drop after he broke through it. It would be impossible to break the glass with his hands, take the spear, and sprint through the window. The glass wouldn't break, the alarm would be triggered, and he wouldn't be able to fit through the small window, assuming there weren't metal covers that shut into place after the alarm went off.

He had a different plan. He had to be fast, strong enough to break through glass, big enough to hold the spear, and small enough to fit through the window. The only form he could take that fit every requirement was a jaguar. The added bonus of which was that his catlike reflexes would allow him to land on his feet from the window to the ground.

The plan had to be enacted quickly if he wanted to escape with his life, dignity, and position intact. Beastboy became the feline and positioned himself a short distance from the case and tensed his muscles. It was now or never.

He sprang into action, pouncing through the display case and grabbed the spearhead in his jaws. Upon hearing the almost instantaneous alarm, he twisted around and sprinted for the nearest window. Loud metal banging was heard and he saw heavy metal doors slamming across each of the accessible entrances in quick succession.

As the sounds grew closer, he dashed close to the window and burst through it, glass shards following his sleek form to the ground below. The sentry house was clearly occupied by a trained soldier, instantly alerted to the break-in. He knew this because the soldier was now leveling a rifle at him.

Beastboy heard a telltale hum from the force field, which was unmistakably surrounding the majority of the complex. The only way out was the roadblock he entered through, guarded by a very angry looking man.

He sprinted towards the man, making shallow zigzags along the way, dodging the vast number of bullets barreling his way. His fur shivered as displaced air whizzed past him, the bullets grazing but not touching him. He made sure that his paws never touched the small bumps on the ground, as to avoid triggering a mine, but there was some need for distraction, as a single bullet could fell him.

His impacts grew harder against the ground, sending greater shockwaves through the ground. The mines long since buried in the ground exploded from the vibrations, sending shrapnel fifty feet into the sky. A line of explosions followed Beastboy as he ran to the soldier, closing the distance every second. His fur ruffled uncontrollably from the force of the explosions, but the one most affected was the soldier.

A combination of the bright lights from the gunpowder and the lack of bullets in his rifle caused him to raise his arm, momentarily changing his focus from the intruder to the prevention of permanent eye damage. Beastboy reached him a few seconds after and pounced on his shoulders, using them as leverage to leap higher and further than he could normally.

The soldier recovered quickly and drew his pistol from its socket, whirling around to get one final chance to down the green blur. He stared down the sights and leveled it to the ground, only to find that there was nothing to shoot at. The ground was untouched, there were no holes or ditches to disappear into and nothing in the sky flying away. It was as if the green jaguar leapt through time and space.

What really happened was clever programming on Beastboy's part. Just before he teleported down, he rigged the machine to teleport him away as soon as he left the area protected by the force field. He had to escape detection before the theft was linked to him, so he disappeared into the distance, ready to deal with a group he would never normally associate with.

Beastboy was so caught up in his reminiscence that he neglected to notice the eight satyrs galloping in from the distance. The half-goats were known for their own greed and took great pleasure tormenting those who shared in their plight.

Their approaching running alerted Beastboy to the imminent danger and he sprang to attention, ready to take on any attacker. The first satyr to reach him jumped and swung from above, eager to dash the brains of the unwanted intruder.

Beastboy easily dodged the attack and grabbed the spearhead in his hand, plunged it into its now exposed back. The blade bypassed the fur, skin, and bone of the goat man without any resistance and almost instantly killed it.

The rest stumbled from seeing their comrade dying so easily, but regrouped and rushed at the changeling with renewed vigor. Two swung at him simultaneously from different angles, forcing Beastboy to jump back to avoid the attacks. He used the spearhead to slash at the one trying to flank him, cutting through the axe it held and straight through its arm. It fell to the ground clutching the bloody stump in agony.

He deflected one blow after the other from the six remaining satyrs, parrying for his life. Even though using weapons wasn't his strong point, he was fighting them off with stunning precision. A blow came from below the belt, seeking to cripple or injure him. He swung the spear down with such force that it clanged against the incoming weapon and tore it free from its owners hand.

The move forced him to take a half second to recover, allowing one of the enemies wielding a mace to strike his back with crushing force. He tried his best to roll away from the blow, but was unable to avoid the full strike. He knew that it would leave a nasty bruise.

He tried to go on the offensive, eager to whittle down the high number of demons against him. Using the spear as a thrust weapon, he struck at the satyr closest to him and succeeded to penetrate its chest. He pushed the dead body away, trying to get the demon to not fall onto him.

Beastboy crouched down and lunged at one a short distance away. He tackled the goat man straight to the ground and plunged the spear into its skull, slicing one of the horns in the process. He rose quickly and turned to face three moving towards him, weapons in hand.

One of them attacked him almost instantly while the other two split around the side, tightening the noose around him. He dispatched his attacker by sweeping its hooves from under it and backed up, trying to keep the remaining patrol within his vision.

They advanced on him slowly, forcing Beastboy to pay full attention to their slightest move, ready to defend himself if they did anything. The satyrs stopped and glanced at each other, as if they knew something he didn't.

Just as Beastboy was about to dash forwards, they jumped towards him with frightening speed, heads forwards as though trying to headbutt him. He stepped backwards in an effort to avoid the incoming assault, but was unable to find his footing due to the dead body almost immediately behind him.

He was unable to stop himself from falling backwards, bashing his head onto the rocky ground. His vision became blurry and grew dark, telltale signs that he was lapsing into unconsciousness. The last thing that registered before going completely blank was the feeling to stones being dragged beneath his head. He was being taken somewhere else for God knows what.

* * *

"Azar?"

Raven could hardly believe it, her mentor, her role model, her very reason for being the woman that she was standing right in front of her. The goddess was in her prime, tall, sleek, head high in the air covered in a flowing, golden river of hair.

She was the perfect example of a person, a paragon of virtue and purity and the first person Raven truly admired. The only woman she even considered to have any sort of maternal connection to.

She was strong, confident, fearless. A leader that singlehandedly ran a civilization with an almost frightening ease. She hated the monks of Azarath with a passion, they shunned every action she took, every move she made. She hated the people in the streets, they spoke harshly behind her back, whispering curses and threatening harm at every turn. She hated her own mother, despised her inaction, loathed the woman who didn't have a single good action towards her own child. Raven never knew a kind touch, a reassuring word, a peaceful comfort, even from her own blood.

Azar was the only person she could never hate, only because there was nothing to hate. Raven couldn't find a single flaw to exploit. She didn't see any behavior that was duplicitous or backhanded. The woman's eyes weren't filled with disgust when she looked at the demoness. She didn't sneer at any mistakes made. She didn't hold any animosity in her presence. Even Raven's undeveloped empathic abilities couldn't detect any ill feelings or false hope. Azar never saw her as the child that should never have been, but as a potential for something great.

Raven was born and raised in the great palaces in the center of Azarath, overlooked by the leader herself. For as long as she could remember, Azar was present when she woke up and departed after she fell asleep. She took personal charge of Ravens upbringing, directing the studies as the child grew. She advanced the material Raven mastered quickly and explained thoroughly what she was still unclear of. The woman was the most influential person in her life.

The eyes though. The eyes were wrong. They were always caring, understanding of her faults and shortcomings. They never sneered or looked down on her. Her soul was pure and untouchable and shone with an unmistakable radiance. This was wrong.

What she saw was a shell, a flawless shell to be sure, but a shell nonetheless. the image was perfect but with no substance to back it up. The body was right but without personality to hold it together. Now that Raven thought about it, even Azar's very existence was impossible.

Trigon destroyed Azarath and all of its inhabitants when Raven turned sixteen. Like Earth, he didn't leave a single building unscorched or a stone unturned. He would never have allowed a single soul to escape his rage, Azar being at the foremost of his destruction. There was no way that she could be here. It had to be a trick.

She gathered a small amount of her power and released it, meaning to make the apparition stumble. An action that wouldn't harm her if it really was her mentor but would reveal any treachery.

The black magic burst forth and struck the woman, energy spiraling off her body from the impact and taking parts of an illusion with it. The second she saw it, she knew. Deception was an unforgivable act.

She readied herself for battle once more and summoned a Raven's claw to attack the imposter before her. Any light or brightness in Azar's face disappeared and was replaced with an angry scowl, dodging the attack with barely an inch to spare. The illusion dispersed and a figure clad in roiling shadows leapt from her range.

Raven wouldn't allow the creature to escape so easily, barreling after it with her cloak whipping around her heels. The figure saw his pursuer and added a quick dash to its movements, cutting through side streets and alleyways with hopes of losing its tail. Whenever it passed a stack of crates or any kind of bulky object, it threw it to the floor in hopes of tripping her up. Raven paid no heed to the obstacles and utterly pulverized everything in her path.

Every glimpse of the imposter was used as an opportunity to snare it, sending her powers forth with the intent to grab or trip it enough to catch up. Her attempts were in vain though as the creature that tried to trick her was abnormally fast.

The chase went on for a mile before she could feel the fatigue seeping into her muscles. The same thing seemed to be happening to her prey, its movements were sluggish and the corners not as sharp. She would have to end this chase soon or risk losing the mastermind behind the botched assassination attempt.

The shadow darted down yet another sideway and as Raven followed, she recognized where they were. Her many trips in Dis gave her an idea of where everything was, doubled with the fact that she had traversed this area before.

She slowed down ever so slightly, allowing her attacker gain more and more of a lead. It quickly happened that she lost her target entirely, but it was all part of her plan. She sprinted past the small alleyway that she knew it darted into, giving a false hope to the now hopeless creature.

Using her powers, she phased through the nearest wall and created a portal through to the side it was leaning against. Her hands lunged forwards and grabbed her assailant roughly by the shoulders, dragging him through the portal and slammed him against the cobblestone road she stopped at. She then used her powers to envelope her captured prey, preventing any movement or thought of escape.

The figure she was chasing was male and demonic by the form he possessed, but still shrouded in darkness. In one quick stroke, she dispelled any illusion that would bar her from seeing her attacker, Azar or otherwise.

The shadows parted and the blackness that cloaked his form parted to reveal a surprisingly human like demon, dressed in very casual modern civilian clothing. His quartet of crimson eyes gave his true nature away and his energy gave away his heritage. He was a son of Trigon.

She raised both of her hands and thrust them forwards, making the demon slam against the wall opposite them. A quick flick of her wrist snapped his head upwards and she drew a blade to his exposed neck. "My brothers have unique powers. Jesse inspires lust, Jared inspires wrath, and Jacob inspires envy."

The demon scowled at Raven, but kept his mouth firmly shut.

"You attacked me, something that has only two outcomes. Either you successfully kill or imprison me and gain supremacy over my troops and land, or you fail miserably and are left at my mercy. That you would attempt it at all means that things are desperate enough to force you to do this."

His eyes glinted with understanding but remained silent.

She continued. "Lust would seduce me in a room alone and Wrath would meet me in an open battlefield. You take the form others to distract and disarm. But why Azar? I never envied her."

His brow furrowed and his lips curled. "The Azarathian was always someone you admired, a short step from envy. Obviously it wasn't short enough."

Raven smirked at her success. "Whatever your plan was Jacob, it didn't work. You failed and I ought to kill you for trying to kill me."

She bared razor fangs and brought them to his neck, ready to rip his throat out. She hovered a half inch above his exposed skin, but her expected bloodlust didn't fill her mind as it should have. It shouldn't matter if he's her brother or not, he deserved to die.

But then, he could be more useful alive. A pair of eyes that knew what to look out for was worth more than a thousand followers with no will. That and a tiny nagging abhorrence of violence. It was just the shock of seeing Azar after so long she reasoned. It would soon pass.

Raven withdrew her fangs and glared at him. "Against my better judgment, I'm letting you live."

She ignored the confused look on his face.

"There will be some changes though. Every servant and soldier of yours now answer to me. Every scrap of dirt you control is under my control. You will do nothing without my express permission and will report only to me. Everything that you have and everything that you are belongs to me, do you understand?"

He glared back at his sister, trying to make her flinch, but she wouldn't budge. Lowering his head in defeat, he muttered "Yes, Raven."

She slammed him into the wall. "You will speak louder and you will call me mistress!" She demanded.

"Yes, mistress!" He practically shouted.

A knowing grin crept up on her face. If anything unexpected did happen, she wouldn't be caught with her pants down. Her power would continue to grow until not even her father could stop her.

**To Be Continued**

**A new chapter will be released every second Friday until the epilogue on December 20th. That way, I follow the plan to have this complete in the case the world 'ends'. **


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter VI: Anger**

**Previously:** _She slammed her brother into the wall. "You will speak louder and you will call me mistress!" She demanded._

_"Yes, mistress!" He practically shouted._

_A knowing grin crept up on her face. If anything unexpected did happen, she wouldn't be caught with her pants down. Her power would continue to grow until not even her father could stop her._

Beastboy came to on a hard cot in a moldy prison cell, holding the back of his head in pain. The mere feeling brought his last memories flooding back, his humiliating defeat being the worst of them.

"Lesson learned: Stick with what you're good at, Gar."

He jolted up and looked around frantically. There were stone walls on five edges of the prison with a plain cast iron set of jail bars on the last. The jail cell opposite to him held a fairly clean-shaven man with only one eye whose gaze was fixed on the green hero.

His own was completely empty. There was no trace of the bag containing the horn or any form of pants with a weapon fragment in them. He was clad in a leather jerkin so worn that it was developing holes in the chest and rips in the seams. They left his trousers which he considered to be a kindness, but more likely just laziness. Who said eternity meant you had to do a full job? He slumped down onto the cot, which he immediately regretted due to its unusually high stiffness.

"That spear did not perform as advertised." He muttered to himself. "I was hardly invincible. As I recall, I was very vincible."

"Prison. Meaning structures. Meaning city. Meaning Dis." Beastboy quickly worked out that he was in the fifth circle of Hell. He did research and made sure to remember features of each world. Anger was the only place that even bothered to keep the damned souls on standby.

He put his bare feet on the floor, actively seeking for the cold and damp to make him fully aware of his surroundings and tear away any lingering semblance of tired from his psyche.

His ears twitched at a voice that wasn't his own. "Well now, this is a surprise. Of all the people I've seen in my life, you are by far the last person I expected to see down here."

Beastboy squinted at the old man, trying to recognize him. Nothing about his facial features rang any warning bells and his scent wasn't familiar, but something about his voice sent shivers down his spine. "Do I know you?"

"We've met many times, shapeshifter. Alas, not strictly face to face. Our encounters have always had a... Degree of separation." The old man put his hand to his face, covering the half of his face without an eye.

Then it dawned on Beastboy. The steady monotone of his voice and the way his eye seemed to stare right through him. "Slade."

The imprisoned super villain sat up straighter, now radiating an aura of calm in this terrible place. "Wilson if you like. Or Deathstroke if you're feeling very generous. I am certainly not trying to conquer the world from the depths of a prison cell. Demons torment my every waking hour."

Beastboy smirked. "Can't be easy for an insomniac."

A sly smile appeared on Slade's face, something he never saw before due to the metal covering during their previous encounters.

"So. Anger, huh? I thought you'd be in for Greed or something." Beastboy thought he'd take it easy. Slade was never his rival and he never really feared the man. And there were two rows of steel bars separating them. He earned the right to be a bit cocky.

The smile turned into a wide grin. "If there was a circle dedicated to vanity, I'd be the most famous resident. There are more reasons for being in a prison than incarceration. My current status is 'In transit'. You are not as fortunate."

"Am I in for something special?"

Slade leaned forwards and stated right into him. "You're still alive." He breathed. The shock of finding someone in Hell who wanted to be was almost overwhelming. Almost.

"Why are you down here? You always had a knack for escaping death."

Slade closed his eyes as if condemning his actions. "My own fault, really. I was expecting to meet my end at the hands of a completely corrupt Robin. Certainly not betrayed by someone in the same line of work. How is my former apprentice, by the way?"

He waved his hand in a circular motion above his head. "Somewhere down here. You can thank your previous employer for that. Who got the better of you, 'cause I'd like to shake his hand."

"You might be the only one who could. When the Brotherhood of Evil went on a recruitment drive, they asked for my patronage. My only condition was a position with the same amount of power as the Brain himself."

Beastboy leaned a little closer. "No honor among thieves apparently. He doesn't take kindly to sharing power."

Slade grimaced. "I learned that the hard way. A single monotone command and his ape was set on me. Usually I can defeat anyone in hand-to-hand combat. You may recall that his hands were a bit bigger than normal.

A green eyebrow raised higher than the other one. "I've fought that monkey before. I can't really imagine him beating you."

A dry chuckle emerged from the old man's throat. "I spent so much time focusing on acquiring Robin that I neglected to form tactics to fight you."

Beastboy scoffed. "You didn't need anything special to beat me. I remember getting my ass handed to me every time we met."

"Mainly because you favor the same creatures to do your bidding. That made you predictable and beatable." Slade leaned forwards. "You could be magnificent. Always changing, always shifting. Always finding different forms to do the same tasks. Nobody to call Master, not one thing to tie you down."

Beastboy certainly liked the sound of that, but something didn't add up. "Wait. If you died while the Brain was still in power, why did I see you at the carnival a week later?"

It was now Slade's turn to raise an eyebrow. "Did you, now?" He murmured. A curl appeared on his lip as if a foreign memory appeared to him.

"Yeah, I saw Terra afterwards and you confronted me while I was at the Hall of Mirrors. You told me she didn't want to remember!"

"Did I confront you?" The old man inquired.

Beastboy shuffled awkwardly. "A dinosaur kind of... bit you in half."

"And did you see my flesh? My blood?" Slade demanded. The tone of his voice wasn't so much pressuring Beastboy rather than asking the question earnestly.

Beastboy's eyes widened as he heard the urgency in the super villain's voice. "It uh. Turned out to be another one of your robots."

"And it responded? Reasoned?" Upon Beastboy's nod, Slade looked away and mumbled. "So 'That' is still in effect..."

The screech of old metal rubbing against itself filled both of their cells. "What's still in effect?" Beastboy was getting desperate as the sound of heavy footsteps crunched closer.

Two massive guards stopped in front of his cell and turned towards him. The gate flew open with considerable force and clanged against the stone wall, causing Beastboy to jump onto his cot. His feeble attempt to stall the guards for a half second more amused them but didn't affect their intent in any way. They grabbed his hands roughly and dragged him from the small excuse for a bed. As he was being torn from his cell, he spared a glance at the former villain, who was now standing next to the bars.

"If we meet again boy, I'll tell you everything."

The guards didn't give Beastboy the time to get to his feet and dragged him across the floor. He got a good view of the corridor the cell was located in and it was a short distance to a large pipe.

He heard the screech of metal again, so he spared a glance backwards. A lone guard had opened Slade's cell this time, but the old man walked out without any unnecessary force. Just before he was dragged out of view, he overheard a few words. "Blaze wants to see you."

He didn't give it much forethought as the guards dragged him to the chute and threw him in. The proceeding pipe fell straight down and opened into a massive arena. He fell onto the ground with a bit of a squelch. Already he was being assaulted from all sides, but by a myriad of shouting voices and angry faces.

A large coliseum surrounded him, filled with demons jeering at the sight of him. He looked around him and saw a horrifying sight. He stood on a sea of decaying bones and rotting flesh. He was surrounded by the remnants of a billion combatants, rotting where they were felled.

He looked back up at the pipe that dumped him into the arena. It was a good twenty feet in the air and glistening with the light of the sparse torches. The chute was lubricated with something and was in accessible in his human form. If he really wanted to, he could easily climb his way back up the chute, but he'd rather move ahead than return to the cells.

He also noticed several other pipes suspended in the air, the obvious entry point for every single one of these dead people.

He heard the sound of bone against flesh and turned to see two other fighters duking it out with closed fist. The battle was between a small thin man against a much larger and muscular opponent, but it was clear that the smaller one was winning.

Two quick jabs to the side and dodging the blind swing, it was clear that the smaller one had the best in combat training. Opening his hand from the clenched fist into a straight sheet of bone, the small one rolled beneath the giant's legs and slashed at the exposed calves. The spurts of blood only served to show that the attackers nails were sharp blades in themselves.

The giant fell to his knees with an awful crunch, arms at his side faced outwards in a sign of defeat. The attacker wasted no time and plunged his straightened hand into the defeated man's chest, bypassing ribs and plunging through the heart and lungs without any difficulty. He withdrew the hand and let the body fall, dead before it joined the comrades fallen on the ground.

Beastboy stared hard at the dark figure, Head lowered and shoulders straight in a constant battle stance. His hands were clenched, quaking with no purpose. Was it sadness? Hesitation? Humiliation? His long black hair tumbled over his muscles, saturated with the grime and the sweat that hadn't been washed for years. The strands that weren't stuck together accentuated every tendon and bulge. He was covered in calluses and scars, the aftereffects of a thousand battles.

His face was obscured by the hair and the terrible lighting, but the light fell onto the man's head, revealing a very familiar scar on the side of his face. Beastboy squinted at the hardened figure. "Robin?" He breathed heavily as he studied the figure. Right height, right size, and the head twitched ever so slightly when he said the name. Clear signs that he was talking to his former teammate.

It was clear what troubled him. The area of Hell he was in, the mood of the crowd watching, and the increased quaking from Robin. Anger. A horn sounded in the distance and the jeering mass stopped, the air calmed, and Robin was still.

If Beastboy wasn't a hardened fighter, he would only see Robin disappear in a flash, but his finely tuned eyes followed around the arena. Sensing that his opponent could keep up, Robin added a quick dash to the green man. Remembering all the spars between them, he raised his arms to fend away the incoming leg.

The hit connected and Beastboy was propelled into the distance. There were many similarities to the between the other matches, but he was faster and hit like a hammer. As he sailed through the air, it occurred to him that years doing nothing but fighting would only improve the Boy Wonder's capabilities.

The fighting style was simpler too. More power than style, something the human hero never preferred. Obviously being pitted against ordinary folk dulled his techniques. Before he could ponder any more, the man sprinted towards him, closing the distance between the two.

Beastboy quickly rose and readied himself for another attack. He would have to defend himself by parrying rather than a full on block. A familiar flurry of blows rained on top of him and Beastboy tried in earnest to dodge as many as possible. He had fought in his human form both recently and often and he took the blows with moderate ease.

His previous bouts with Robin had given him clear markers on what movements meant what action he would take, but was limited by their time apart. In Beastboy's terms, it had been just under two months, but by his estimate, Robin had been fighting for just over three years.

Robin fought dirty too. Every time Beastboy wasn't expecting it, a sucker punch would fly in and nick his jaw or cheek bone. The Boy Wonder clapped his ears and followed through with a roundhouse kick that almost finished the changeling for good. He even slammed an elbow into what would otherwise perfect head dodge and broke Beastboy's nose.

Robins razor nails also played a part, tearing at any exposed skin or bulging muscles. The cuts were shallow and short but everyone combined to form a network of throbbing nerve endings. The substandard jerkin they gave him also failed to provide any protection and was easily shredded.

Beastboy was topless and stretched to his limits. Not only did he have to successfully defend himself from a formidable opponent, he also had to find steady footing against the bodies of the thousands that were just under his feet. He almost fell over multiple times from sliding down a cloth covered torso or getting a foot trapped between two bodies.

He could see how Robin was able to survive this long. Light and agile was the only way to fight at the fullest.

The Boy Wonder recovered impossibly fast from any deflection that Beastboy gave. When a left hook was bounced off an arm swipe, a right kick followed a split second afterwards. When he jumped to avoid a low blow, an unavoidable headbutt flew towards his chest.

As life threatening as the battle was, Beastboy didn't have the heart to strike his former leader. Any openings that Robin gave were ignored and any punches thrown were meant to be dodged rather than hit by.

A punch thrown with two fists came at the green hero simultaneously and he was forced to whack them both away at the same time. He soon realized that it was a mistake as Robin performed his signature move of stepping on his leg and using the momentum to deliver a jaw jarring uppercut, sending them both in opposite directions.

Beastboy jumped to his feet, but his muscles screamed in response. Fatigue hit him like a hammer and his knee failed him as he slumped to the ground. That uppercut shook him to his senses and quickly stopped the flow of adrenaline rushing through his body.

He panted heavily from the exhaustion of this level of fighting. He had to use every trick in his arsenal just to keep up with him. He was never able to beat the Boy Wonder in their normal spars. Now the human had another few years above him and Beastboy was suffering from it.

Something dawned on him. They always had a restriction on powers in their previous bouts. Mainly because Robin would get his ass handed to him if he ever went against an opponent that wasn't one he trained to overcome. He also tried to refrain from shifting in the journey as very few forms could move quickly and carry the items he brought along.

Since he was no longer encumbered by his possessions and not bound to fight on even grounds as before, Beastboy would use his powers to overcome the obstacle.

Beastboy looked around rapidly. It wouldn't be long before the dark-haired man got to him again, so he had to choose the form that would be best in this arena. Nothing too big or he would sink into the rotting flesh like quicksand. Nothing too small or he would never pack a big enough punch to take him out.

Then it dawned on him. The uneven surfaces and the terrible lighting. A creature that could incapacitate an experienced fighter like Robin. Something not heavy enough to sink into the sea of flesh and agile enough to keep up with the Boy Wonder.

A snake. The elongated reptiles moved best when the surfaces were uneven, allowing for sidewinding to be used to its maximum potential. The nocturnal creature could see in the dark and could use other senses to determine where Robin could hide and successfully grapple the superhero.

He had to act quickly. Robin dashed towards him and leapt into the air, aiming to plant a solid foot into Beastboy's chest. Just as the foot was about to find the target, Beastboy willed himself into the biggest snake he could muster.

The foot landed in the middle of one of his coils so the snake stretched itself out, trying to snare Robin. The former hero sensed the danger and jumped up immediately, narrowly dodging the trap. With his milky eyes, Beastboy could see Robin bound several meters away from him and stop, obviously confused as to what happened.

A forked tongue flicked out and tasted the air. The rotting bodies were sensed even stronger now. The air was displaced in many places around the arena. He could sense the movements of everything in a medium radius. He could see his current opponent analyzing the situation in the distance. He could sense small twitches by a couple of the bodies laying on the surface, most likely twinges from an almost dead nervous system.

He could sense the demons watching from the stands high above him but even though he couldn't hear them as well as in his human form, they probably quieted from the strange display they just witnessed. A small part of his nose twitched and he immediately looked at the source. Robin lowered himself to the ground and opened his hands into the best form for grabbing things. He wouldn't allow that to happen.

Beastboy ignored the instinct to wait for his prey to come to him and slithered as fast as he could to the readied defender. He quickly got closer to Robin and coiled up into a tight spring. With lightning speed, he lunged at Robin with fangs extended.

As expected, Robin dodged it but by a narrower margin than anticipated. As the rest of Beastboy's body followed his head, he could feel the skin of Robin's hands try to close in on it. He tried to constrict his body to slip through the fingers quickly grasping onto it.

Robin's hands closed in on themselves, just missing the tightly wound muscles in the snake's body. It was clear that the mixture of the smooth nature of his skin coupled with the coating of blood he picked up while slithering through dead bodies gave his body a slick quality to it. Beastboy silently cursed. While that would allow him to evade many of the grappling techniques Robin would certainly employ, it made his ability to constrict and grip any part of the body severely limited.

He turned around and lunged again, this time just aiming to hit the human's chest and unbalance him. The strike was successful and Robin staggered from the blow. Beastboy slithered to his right and lunged again, glancing off the flailing arm. Another half second of movement allowed the snake to twine himself between the man's unsuspecting calves.

All of his muscles contracted at the same time and Beastboy could feel his lengthy spine try to ensnare his prey. As soon as the Boy Wonder felt the scales on his skin, he leapt up, evading the death-clutch of the reptile trying to catch him. He spared two acrobatic somersaults behind him and landed on all fours.

A clanging sound emitted from the pipe just above Robin and a woman fell out of it, landing just beside him. As she was getting to her feet, Robin reached beside him and grabbed her head, twisting it cruelly. His new talent of instantaneous deaths showed itself again as she slumped back to the spot she landed in, adding a few inches to the ground.

The crowd found a voice again and cheered at the merciless kill, now working themselves into a blood frenzy as they watched the match intently.

Beastboy was forced to whirl around frightened, the crowd was jostling each other so roughly that it was playing with his instincts. They hadn't been a distraction before, but now that they were in a constant state of movement and noise, the snake had to be able to see if any of them were going to attack him.

He looked back to where Robin was, only to find him absent from where Beastboy left him. His tongue flicked out rapidly, trying to locate the man trying to kill him, only getting the smell from the bodies and the demons.

His senses tingled and he shot forwards, trying to avoid the man who jumped on top of him from above, but he wasn't fast enough. Robin grabbed the tip of his tail and du his fingernails in. Beastboy winced at the pain, but it was soon forgotten as he was dragged back.

Once he had a good grip of the snake's tail, Robin used all of his strength to lift it up and whirl it around. Beastboy quickly gained momentum as his speed increased. He was quickly discovering what it was like to be a shot-put.

Just as he got dizzy from going in circles, Robin released, sending him sailing through the air and towards the stone wall separating the arena from the stands.

He hit the wall with a nasty thunk and the impact jarred him back into human form. He picked himself up, rubbing his sore sides and cursing at his inability to defeat the powerless hero. An ear twitched as he heard a door open, the evidence proved as he looked at the other side of the arena. Finally, an opportunity for attack and escape.

Robin dashed towards him, but Beastboy was ready. The second he got into range, the changeling leapt forwards with both fists closed. He connected with Robin's face and ploughed right through, momentum carrying him through the air.

He didn't have any time to lose. He shifted into an eagle and barreled to the slowly closing door. There were two figures in the way, but Beastboy didn't slow down or avoid them. At the last second, he tucked his wings beside his body and dove for the door, bumping into the demons in the way and slipping past them. He got through the door just before it closed on him.

As he sailed through the corridors, he couldn't help but shake the feeling that both of the figures he broke through were familiar. His escape attempt was successful though and he was already moving quickly through the corridors and staircases.

It wasn't long before he got high enough to rise through the street level and into the open air. Freedom never tasted nor the air so sweet. A cesspool of human effluence was too much to handle for a minute and he was shocked at how long he lasted. He could only imagine what it would have been like for Robin.

No matter. He was free now and he was in no hurry to get back there.

**(Scene Break)**

Asmodea was leaning against the wall in one of the hallways connecting to the surface. She had summoned her sister to meet her at the earliest convenience. She wanted to talk about the matter that was interrupted by Raven's untimely departure.

The princess of Lust had sources everywhere and heard everything. She heard that Beastboy had been captured and sent to the dungeons. The fact didn't particularly concern her, he had been an ample distraction but was otherwise worthless to her. He could go and die in the arena like so many of the others and she wouldn't even blink.

His life had meaning to one other, or at least it used to. She enjoyed watching the exploits of her sister's team. So many relationship quirks and amusing subplots. The team allowed a rare insight into humanity, the basest forms of what made friendship what it was.

She saw how the two of them communicated, however one sided it was, and loved every minute of it. She saw the way Raven looked at him, how she spoke to him, and how she acted around him. Even though they had been apart for a number of years now, Asmodea knew that some connection might linger. And if that were true, Raven deserved to know what happened to him.

Asmodea also knew that she had recently survived an assassination attempt. She was glad to hear that her sister survived. Life in Hell was fine the way it was. It didn't need the death of a prominent leader to screw up the works. She just needed to know how the demoness felt after a brush with death.

An angry voice demanded an answer from Asmodea "You wanted to see me?"

She turned around to see her beloved Raven, clad in a flowing crimson cloak. "Raven, darling. You look divine!"

The demoness gave a deadpan look to her sister. If there was ever a time when she was not remotely amused, it was this very moment.

"Take a walk with me, sweetheart. We have a couple things to discuss." Asmodea started walking along the corridor, allowing time for her sister to accompany her. " Last time we met, I was about to tell you something, but you left before I could."

"From what I remember, you already told me what you knew."

Asmodea laughed at the notion. "If I told you what I knew, we'd be here for decades!" She wiped a tear from her eye from the joy of the humor. "I was sorry to hear about the attack. I always knew our brother was unstable, but I never guessed he would go that far."

Raven whirled around. "You knew this could happen and you just let it?" She shouted.

"I had no idea. It was only until after his forces merged into yours that I heard about it." Asmodea tried her best to sound sincere and she was. She just had to convince a very suspicious and untrusting heir to the kingdoms of Hell. "Anyways, I still have something to tell you."

Raven narrowed her eyes at her sister. " What could you possibly say that could be more important than an impending assassination attempt."

Asmodea nudged her sister playfully. " I told you already, I knew nothing about it."

"A likely story." She accused back.

The princess of Lust would have taken her seriously if she didn't find the way Raven said that statement hilarious. "What I was going to say was that you aren't alone down here."

Raven stopped and stared at her sister. "There are millions of demons here and billions of souls imprisoned. How am I alone?"

"I was told of your incursion the moment it happened. What followed was two years of power and control! All of this done on your lonesome." Asmodea explained. "What I mean by not alone is that there was yet another incursion. This one was met with less glamour and has remained mostly under the radar."

Raven slowed the pace along the hallway slightly. "I have four circles to rule. How exactly does this concern me?"

Her sister brought a hand to her chin and tapped it forgetfully. "He expressed a keen interest in finding you. What was that man's name again?" She muttered to herself. Her hand left her chin with a flourish and returned to her side. "Oh, I'm just abysmal with names."

The empath rolled her eyes. Her time was being wasted completely unnecessarily by a woman who clearly like to take her time.

"One redeeming attribute does stand out to me. How many people have do you know that have green skin?"

Raven stopped in her tracks. She spun around and grabbed her sister's shoulder, slamming her into the wall. The purpose was to intimidate her into giving a straight answer, but a wayward moan made it known that she couldn't be intimidated by normal means.

"Garfield! That was it. Head like a sieve, me!" The masochist giggled at her own shortcomings. A flash in her eye gave away the fact that she enjoyed the look of shock on Raven's face.

"Why didn't you tell me this before? How long have you known!"

Asmodea gave her whitest and most innocent smile. "Your own fault, sister dearest. You left before I could tell you!"

Raven brought a claw up to her sister's exposed throat. With all the seriousness and strength she could muster, she spoke three very simple and direct words. "Where. Is. He."

"Again, you avoid what you need by pursuing your own desires. Admirable as that is..." She was interrupted as Raven slammed a closed fist onto the wall next to her head.

"Where."

The smile vanished from the demon's face. "We were already on the way." She pointed a finger to the direction they were walking to before. "Just through that door."

Raven looked at the door and then back to her sister. "He's in the arena?" She growled.

Asmodea had to squint as the violet light from her sister's eyes shone brighter than ever before. "Let's just hope he hasn't been finished off by now."

The empath sprinted to the door with the masochist in close proximity. She kicked the door open and dashed a short distance beyond, stopping to find the idiot who shouldn't have gone to these lengths.

Her excellent vision spotted a green figure on the opposite side of the arena with a man sprinting across the ground towards him. She saw him jump past the man and shift into a bird, growing larger by the second. She barely had time to react as a green eagle barreled its way towards her and pushed its way past her side.

Her head followed the fast animal as it went between both Raven and her sister, through the recently open door, and off into the hallway they just walked through.

Raven was paralyzed by the sudden turn of events. Beastboy was in Hell. For her. The jokester got himself damned. For her. Her teammate expressly disobeyed her last instruction. For her. He journeyed his way through the worst environments, past the most horrifying creatures, and escaped from captivity. For her.

For the first time in her life, her emotions didn't readily present themselves. She didn't know whether to be angry, sad, pissed, happy, furious, pleased, miserable, flattered, humiliated, indifferent, or incredibly concerned. Or all of the above. Or none.

She would have to sort these emotions out before she even considered following Beastboy. If she was even going to bother. Time would tell. Time always told.

**(Scene Break)**

Slade Wilson looked around with his eye at the room he stood in. He had convinced the guard escorting him to make a small detour and he didn't want to push his luck any further.

The room was a mixture of an armory, a lost-and-found, and a general dump. Basically where the dim witted guards threw all the junk they took away from the prisoners and kept their worst battle equipment. He searched around for something that didn't belong, something not normally found in the abyssal depths.

He made deals with demons before and had been in Hell on Earth and even he knew that it was stupid to venture down here without any preparation. But then again, this was Beastboy he was thinking about, practically the definition of laziness. He didn't even get up by two in the morning. Foolishness.

He just about gave up searching when he found a grubby-looking backpack. It had obviously been through Hell but wasn't made in it. He had little time left to pander. He rummaged through the sack with his trained sleight and pulled out various items. Snack bars, a necklace, and a trumpet. He got to the base of the bag and withdrew it in pain. Blood trickled from his finger, something the villain had a hard time believing. With his years of training and conditioning, he was able to feel and avoid blades before they ever broke skin. This time he didn't even feel it.

He opened the bag and took a spearhead from the base. The way the light glimpsed off of it practically screamed unnatural. He knew what this was. The spear of destiny had found its way into his hands and right when he needed a trump card the most. A plan already worked into his mind and it brought an awful grin to his face.

The door kicked open and the demon guard gruffly motioned for the man to follow. Slade opened his hands in a motion that signaled he was going to comply. He had already hidden the blade in one of his sleeves. He left the room feeling confident that even in Hell, he still had the power to conquer.

**To Be Continued**

**I'm very surprised at myself when it comes to this. Damn.**

**Amenson out.**


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter VII: Heresy**

**Previously:** _He opened the bag and took a spearhead from the base. The way the light glimpsed off of it practically screamed unnatural. He knew what this was. The spear of destiny had found its way into his hands and right when he needed a trump card the most. A plan already worked into his mind and it brought an awful grin to his face._

_The door kicked open and the demon guard gruffly motioned for the man to follow. Slade opened his hands in a motion that signaled he was going to comply. He had already hidden the blade in one of his sleeves. He left the room feeling confident that even in Hell, he still had the power to conquer._

There was an image that burned itself into her memory. One that shone through all the things she had to do when acting out the role. A fleeting memory that just wouldn't be thrown away like so many others.

Maybe the reason that it wouldn't behave like her other memories was that it was him. Quite possibly the only person who could conjure up such feelings of nostalgia and times past. A flash of green and all she could think about was her life before. He barreled past her and flew into the corridor she just emerged from and for whatever naive reason, she ran after him.

Maybe it was because his only intent was to escape or maybe she wasn't fast enough, but she couldn't catch up to him before the green eagle flew above street level and into the immeasurable sky. Gone before she could even come to grips with what he did or why he did it.

So many uncertainties rested in her head now, a multitude more than the stark few that occupied her mind in the many years before. If Beastboy risked going down into the afterlife to find her, what problems were they having in the world that she could help with? Or was it that, God forbid, Beastboy had died and found the way to escape judgment? So many possibilities rushed through her mind. Possibilities that she wouldn't have considered for any times before this.

She never even looked back when she opened the portal. She had accepted the results of her actions long before she committed them, the entirely selfless sacrifice which had no choice but to happen. She said her goodbyes, settled her accounts. Severed every tie, or so she thought.

When she arrived, not a single thought was given to her old life. She knew that it was a one-way trip, without any hope of returning, excluding some brilliantly thought out plan involving sacrificial virgins or demonic mating ceremony. She certainly didn't want to employ any of those powers to do anything.

Everything after that was incredibly time consuming. She was thrust into a political position almost instantly and was whisked away, leaving her old life and responsibilities behind. All but forgotten, until now.

To be reminded of the life that was responsible for almost endangering an entire planet was unpleasant in the least. Meaningful as it was that Beastboy followed her into the pit, she couldn't help but loathe him.

How dare he disobey her final instructions? What right did he have to deign to come after her? She wont to hell with the specific intent never to return. The total lack of his own regard infuriated her to no end. Stupid idiot! How the Hell did he expect to get through Hell without any help?

That's right. He wouldn't be able to.

Immediately, she flew to the cells where he most certainly would have been held. The prison was manned by a skeleton crew. It didn't need much more, Most of the souls were compliant and devoid of free will, allowing for most demons to be able to sit back and enjoy the entertainment the violence provided.

The first guard she encountered led her to the cell that the 'Green one' was in. There was nothing to indicate that he had been in it for more than a day, the only lingering emotions left in the limestone a mixture of fear and confusion.

The scent that remained was always familiar. She had grown accustomed to it from the many years of living in the same building for years, mainly against her will. There was only so long that she could walk by his messy room before getting used to the smell that exuded from it.

The next place she was led to was where the equipment was stored. Any items Beastboy brought was here, taken away from him after incarceration.

There were objects scattered everywhere. A pile of broken swords just dropped into a far corner, shattered and dinged from millennia of repeated and unending use. Hangers held bits of tattered cloth above the cold floor, attacked by the demonic versions of moths.

There was a slight twinge at the back of her neck, a sour taste in her mouth that was very distinctive. The feeling was purely unique, a force that had no like. She knew exactly what it was. And where it was.

Her eyes turned to her right and one thing didn't belong. A green and purple backpack that was carelessly thrown on top of a pile of miscellaneous junk and shredded chainmail links. She gingerly walked over to it and brought it up to her nose, taking a long and slow intake of air.

Home. Water. Pine needles. Natural, unlike the deodorant people so indelicately smothered themselves with. Everything good of Earth with the slight singeing that came with a presence in the abyssal realm.

She took the zipper and pulled back gently, making sure to avoid tearing any of the fabric with the claws that were incorporated into her demonic biology. The contents were very curious. From her knowledge of the honorary Titans, she instantly recognized the horn, signature of the Herald.

The bag was the most basic of carrying designs and everything was visible. The horn was the main object of value, but there was something that gravity had pulled to the deepest corner of the bag.

With trembling fingers , she reached out to take it. The force that emitted from it was repellant but she had gotten used to it years back. Her hand trembled not from its immense power, but from the fact that it had come back into her possession.

She took it in her hand and brought it up to shoulder level, eyes fixed on it every inch of the way. The archaic amulet hadn't changed a bit in the years since she used it in aiding her teammate's problem. Every crack from aging was where it was supposed to be. Every dent from centuries of use and abuse remained. It was at this moment that she realized that her heart was almost beating out of her chest.

Such an anomaly had never happened before. It was like there was a hole in her chest, something that made her instinctively hunch over. The feelings were completely foreign to her.

As far as she was aware, there was nothing wrong with her body, but there must have been. The shock of a bird hitting her on the way out must have jarred her more than she realized.

_'Wrong.'__  
_  
That voice again. She would call it a conscious if she didn't know for a fact that she never had one. She had a theory about what it was and she was going to find it.

She took the string of the medallion and put it around her neck. The horn was attached to a lanyard laying against a sideboard and slung around her back, underneath the cloak that was doing nothing to ward the cold away from her ankles.

With all haste, she went back to her chambers. There was something she had to sort out. A voice she had to tie a face to, a feeling she had to nail down, and a future she had to determine.

* * *

Flapping wings and loud screeches could be heard from afar. The sentries of Heresy were not merciful when it came to intruders and Beastboy meant to make sure to never see it firsthand.

The sixth circle was massive beyond belief. A mixture of open sky and cluttered ground made it a veritable paradise for those that roam above the ground. For those without the benefit of wings, a considerably worse fate awaited them.

Crumbling tombs inhabited the large expanse. Burning tombs screeching with the screams of all the damned. Molten iron was poured from pots down onto the unfortunate, no regard to what they did or how feeble their attempts to shield themselves were. Here was the place where the unbelievers were tortured.

Unbelievers was a very vague term. The very basic definition was to not believe in something, and for the concept of Hell, the belief should have been singular. The only problem was with the sheer number of religions in the universe.

Belief systems, cults, sects, and doctrines numbered in the millions across every system. There were more religions than there were planets in the sky. For some, the thought of a circle dedicated to the punishment of non-believers meant that it was for everyone but them.

The reality was a great deal simpler. There wasn't one right religion to belong to. There wasn't any number of deities that guaranteed salvation from damnation. Every being got judged equally. The tombs weren't meant for those who believed in the proper afterlife. They were meant for those who rebelled against it.

The belief system of people wasn't something to be judged about. They were lifestyle choices that either suited or was chosen for whoever was on the pedestal. What could cause damnation was those who openly opposed the omnipotent. Blasphemy, heresy, all things that condemn a soul to a realm inhabited by the worst creations of ornis in all of existence.

The overseers of the hellish place were three Furies, mythological and ruthless. What little was written in Greek or Roman histories did no justice to them. From the sound of them, the shrieks were heart wrenching and organ grinding. The sight of them was horrifying.

Daughters stained with blood. Medusa hair. Skin of forest green, scaled and laced with the barbs of the sharpest feathers. The face of a forlorn beauty, but the beak of a bird, dripping with the life-water of those it watched over. Three creatures with one purpose. Kill.

From his vast knowledge of the creatures of the world, Beastboy noticed a number of things wrong with them. He could see them soaring through the sky with relative ease, an impossibility considering the ratio of wingspan to body weight. Even if every bone was hollow, the Furies wouldn't be able to glide for more than a few seconds.

The feathers were all spaced out as well. So far apart that air would just fall between the cracks. There was no sign of down or preening, keying to the theory that the feathers were only for violence. The furies had to be demons, utilizing the home field advantage to move through the skies, maiming as they pleased.

In the end, it didn't matter whether or not they had a logical existence. What mattered was that they couldn't be defeated.

If the changeling went up against even one of them, he would get torn to shreds. If he challenged all three of them, he doubted that he could have more than a ten second survival length. The best he could do was hope to avoid detection and live long enough to get Raven out.

He paused beside a granite slab, concealing the torture chamber of some unnamed blasphemer pleading for release. After a short time, the begging turned into praying, a Gregorian chant that resonated through the stone.

The gravelly tone of the man's burning larynx reminded Beastboy of his own experienced with the religiously extreme. A deal he made with them to secure his... moderately safe travel to the underworld. The cult that tried to double cross him after he made an arrangement with them. A deal with the devil. The mortal kind.

It was a rough time for Beastboy on Earth. He had been scrounging in the lowest depths of the dimensions for power. He had stolen from the most secure location on the planet for might. What he lacked was the final piece to make it all fit into place. An entrance.

All the research he had done about Hell and demonic encounters showed no indication as to portals in and out. All the legends pointed to crossing fictional bodies of water or getting there the old fashioned way. Beastboy had no intention of dying to get past the mortal realm.

There were two ways he knew would work for certain. One was a tried and tested method, one that Raven used herself a few years ago in an effort to stop Brother Blood. That went to the gates of Hell for certain. The only thing that it needed to work was Raven herself, the person he wanted to go into the depths in the first place.

The second was a myth, the only one that had even a slight chance of existing. A tomb that may have had more than just a funereal purpose to it. He already had the item that could open it. He just didn't have the resources to get to it.

There was no way that he could go to the superheroes for help. They would just persecute him for trying to reopen the doors they worked so hard to close. He couldn't go to any proper channels of inquiry, they didn't have the vision or conviction to meet his requests in a reasonable time frame.

He had to go with the worst. An organization that had the resources and the desire to fulfill the same goals that he did.

The cult of Blood had been a sinister organization for centuries, spearheaded by a family of ruthless, patricidal maniacs. The Brother Blood they had regular encounters with had separated from the sect, going his own way with his own malicious agendas. Even though their leader departed from the order and was now dead, the cult was still very much alive.

There had been whisperings that they wanted to get their leader back from damnation. Beastboy figured that if they wanted to do that, they must have wanted a way into Hell. And since they had been a devil-worshipping cult for centuries without any notion of world domination, it was safe to assume they hadn't been successful at any time in the past.

It started with a letter. A letter dropped at a garbage bin down at 5th and Johnson. It continued with correspondence. Wads of cash in dirty paper bags coupled with instructions left at specified locations. Making sure that the cult could deal with menial tasks was essential for the changeling, as it ensured both compliance and the ability of the members.

He balanced urgency and subtlety, one of the benefits of being raised by a group of superheroes specializing in dealing with large organizations. Thankfully, his temporary assistants tugged at the line he threw them. A godsend from a group of demonic servants.

It got to the time when he had to make the deal face to face. Find the tomb and have a chance to restore their leadership to former glory.

He entered a courthouse during lunch hour, a curious time and place to arrange a meeting with anyone trying to hide from the law. Since he would be noticed if he walked through the front door and even more suspicious if he wore any kind of face covering. He was forced to carry a bag of concealing clothes during the night and enter from an entrance on the roof just to leave no trace of his presence.

The third floor of the building had no courts scheduled, a key indicator that these people he was dealing with had power with the highest authorities. He walked to the main door of courtroom 3-B clad in completely black attire and opened it. The sight was startling but not entirely unexpected.

Every seat had been rearranged. The folding chairs that occupied the gallery were removed and all the wiring to any surveillance devices forcefully ripped out. Two red robed sentries greeted him at the door, wands ready to scan for anything metallic. The rest of the occupants were all seated and staring right at him. There were twelve in the jury stand, another twelve where the press sat, and one in the judge's seat.

Beastboy walked up to the bar and stopped, staring right back at the man who was clearly in charge.

The robed figure rose up and addressed the one who had hired them for the past two weeks. "Brother Green. You have a proposition for us?"

Beastboy stared at the leader. He wanted to keep talking at a minimum, lest they get his identity through the sound of his voice. A simple nod sufficed to appease the leader.

The man's hands rose, pointing to all the members of the cult in the room. "We all desire to see the line of Blood restored." The statement caused a rousing round of approving grunts from all the robes around them. He moved his arms so that they were both pointing at him. "You claim to have a way to do this?"

The changeling lifted a gloved hand with a piece of paper between his fingers. One of the sentries took the paper and walked to the stand, presenting it to the hooded leader.

The leader opened it and read the contents. His posture changed ever so slightly. The hood shifted to both sides and nodded at each. The deal was done. He had officially made an arrangement with the cult of Blood to enter Hell and retrieve one of the condemned.

The cult had one person in mind. Beastboy had another. He was more than willing to let them go about their own business, but they tried to double cross him. They should have known better.

With renewed vigor, he continued through the circle of Heresy. He had to make all haste to the final circle, to meet and come back with his friend. He still didn't have a clue on how to go back with her, but he would deal with it when he got there.

One step at a time, Beastboy. One step at a time.

* * *

The moments spent rushing to her abode flew by, probably because she hovered the entire way.

She never had to do this in Hell before. Well, there was no need to. She accepted her demonic heritage the moment she came into the nine worlds and that was everything she needed. There was nothing to scare her. Nothing to make her feel insignificant or insecure. Nothing to destabilize her emotions in the slightest.

There was no reason to enter the depths of her mindscape. No reason to control her emotions because they were all in check. Ever since Fury took over, her life sailed smoothly.

Until now. A long forgotten feeling would force her to go deep into Nevermore.

She placed a mat down in the center of the room she had been occupying for the last two years. As long as it had been since she made this kind of journey, she vividly remembered how taxing it was. She could do this on the stone floor but she wanted to keep circulation in her extremities for the duration.

She adopted a lotus position in the middle, pulling her bare feet into a comfortable position against her thighs. Her muscles creaked slightly at the unnatural placement, joints cracking quietly.

The firmness of the thickly knotted rug slowly left indents on her exposed knees and ankles as she slowly rose above the surface. An unnatural wind filled the room, making her cloak sway along with it. The energy behind her four eyes shone through the thin eyelids, emitting a violet light that lit up the room more than any candle or lamp.

Her aura grew more intense and was focused on the chakra in the center of her forehead. Her hair now got caught up in the breeze, long strands turning every which way. When the stored energy reached critical mass, she opened her eyes, releasing it all on a small scale.

When the images she saw were identified in her mind, it was clear that she wasn't where she started. If she was in here mindscape, there were many similarities to Hell. The sky had changed from an endless black expanse to the same hazy red that occupied the skies of the nine worlds. There weren't any fauna or flora in sight, the ground was too barren to support even the most hardy of life forms.

The stone she stood on was the size of a continent, stretching out for leagues in every direction. Except for one. There was a sudden drop about fifty meters in front of her. A cliff that was hanging over a large valley, as much a tundra as the land above it.

The valley wasn't completely featureless. What looked to be several large buildings rested in the center, set in a circle with all the entrances facing towards the middle. All different styles of architecture were projected from every structure. The long exposure to Hell must have had a more significant effect on her psyche than she thought.

_'Over here.'_

A cool breeze whistled past the various buildings. She was half expecting to see a tumbleweed roll across the ground in front of her, but there wasn't anything in sight.

She saw all the representations that her emotions could conjure as typical living sections. A movie theater, dojo, gymnasium, gazebo, and a restaurant all faced towards her. Every doorway probably led into a larger separate dimension where the other emotions spent the majority of their time.

She walked to and stood before the biggest and oldest of the buildings, looking at obelisks that towered high over the demoness.

_'Inside.'__  
_  
When she entered, the scenery changed drastically. Outside, the building looked old, dusty, and almost exhausted. Inside, the space grew exponentially, giving way to an atrium overlooked by a dozen floors littered with bookshelves. There wasn't a light source in sight, but there was a natural luminescence to the massive library. There weren't any speakers or instruments, but the air carried the faint musings of a sad violin, calling for something it lost long ago.

This was the realm of Knowledge and it was clear that her mindscape had changed. The large network of doorways and land between the emotions of her mind has devolved into building of each ones design. Since the demoness no longer spent her days roaming a city and fighting crime, her way of thinking also shrank.

_'Up.'__  
_  
As much as she would have liked to explore how much her psyche had change in three years, she had a voice to find the source of.

She saw a staircase and calmly walked towards it. The steps were shallow and long, winding in a circular pattern to the next level up. She didn't count exactly, but there were easily a hundred stairs between floors. Time wasn't of the essence though, so she took her time and walked up each step until she couldn't go any higher.

When she walked three levels up, she heard hushed whispers from afar. She looked around and saw two beings talking to each other, one clad in yellow and the other in blue.

The second her eyes connected with theirs, they silenced and stared back. A moment passed between the three. The figure in blue jerked it's head upwards, signaling that her objective was still higher.

The demoness continued walking up, every step taken reverberating through her body. The marble incline had changed to a rich mahogany, the smell of faded varnish and treated wood filling her with a sense of nostalgia. The curvature of the stairs also grew more narrow and the floors above shrank in width. She was entering the spire she saw before.

The wood got older as she climbed higher, signs of age getting clearer with every step. The floors creaked now. The sound of wood groaning intensifying as she put every foot down. The ceiling that was far above her head was now just a few feet away, the stairs leading past it into the highest reaches of the tower.

The second her head rose above the floor, she slowed down, surveying the area before continuing. There was a whole living section up here. A bed, table, chair, and wardrobe occupied the small room, almost entirely devoid of life. The bed was made, chair tucked in, wardrobe closed, and table organized with paper and quill seemingly untouched.

She almost assumed that the room was uninhabited when her eyes were drawn to a window seat that shifted with the smallest of movements. A figure was there, cloaked in white and hooded just like the two down below. She took careful and deliberate steps, walking up the last steps and towards the crystal window.

She stood in front of the figure with her arms crossed and feet apart. "You called."

It turned to look at her, face hidden by the shadow of the drawn hood. The mouth that was barely visible gave the Mona Lisa smile, almost amused by her antics.

Her four eyes narrowed. "I came all the way down here. I deserve an answer."

The figure didn't move for a moment, studying the situation with a calm indifference. Then, with a careful motion, moved its hands up and pushed the hood down to shoulder level.

Even though the face was recognizable, she still gasped. With all of the emotions in her head wearing the same face, it was obvious what the figure would look like. What was so shocking was the certainty within it. The comfort. It was Raven herself.

An awful realization came to the demoness. Memories that had long since been forgotten made themselves known in the most uncomfortable way. "It was you. You were the one speaking in my head..."

"MY head." Raven interrupted. "I've been looking in from time to time. I spoke when I needed to."

Fury growled. The appearance of the original created a threat to her way of living. "You called me a liar."

"Because you are. Don't forget, I know you. You're just a part of myself that I let control for a while."

Fangs grated against each other. "I took control for myself!"

"I'm not your enemy here."

"Then who is?"

Raven folded her hands behind her head. "Not everything has to be about good guys and bad guys. There are problems and yours is Beastboy."

Fury turned her head and stared at the table. "I don't need to concern myself with that idiot."

"He isn't an idiot and we need to deal with it, if only for the sake of our history."

Her head returned to look at her host and snarled. "The thought of him makes us weak. I will kill him the second I lay eyes on him!"

"What good will that do? He went through the trouble to go to Hell. Would you kill a mortal already in the afterlife?"

Fury grumbled but her demeanor didn't change. "What would you have me do?"

"Find out what he's doing here, why he came, and where he's going. He wouldn't be here unless it was for a very good reason, so find out what it is."

The demoness seethe through her fangs. "Give me one reason why I should listen to you."

"This is my head and my body. If you don't listen to me, I won't hesitate to reclaim what is mine."

Fury was quaking, her hands clenched into an ever-tightening fist. She had a glaring competition with her progenitor, each trying to make the other back down.

"We both know what happened. What I know is how to deal with it."

Now it was Fury that was silent. For the longest time, she had controlled her host's body. She had eaten, slept in, and fought with the body for so long that she forgot that it wasn't hers. She had ruled in the Hells for three years, acting with no bravery, wisdom, happiness or fear. She had thought, spoke, and moved with only fury. She didn't know any better and she didn't care to question it. She only lived.

"You've made yourself quite the leader. Princess of Scath and ruler of no less than four world of the afterlife!" Raven gave a genuine smile. "I wouldn't be able to do better myself."

Fury moved forwards an inch. "I don't need your approval." She scowled. "I need your advice. You will tell me my next move."

Raven sat back down on the window seat and stared out the window. "Talk to Asmodea. She saw Beastboy first and might know where he's going."

The demoness blinked each of her four eyes. She would let this pass for now. She would allow someone else to give her orders. She would follow the fool who thought to go after her. And when the time came she would deal with him.

"Just remember, my naive emotion." Raven declared. "I'll be watching every move from now on."

The one who singlehandedly took control of half of the Hells left the safety of her mind and set forwards. Her conviction had never been fiercer and her ability was completely infallible. The hunt was on.

**To Be Continued.**


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter VIII: Violence**

**Previously:** _The demoness blinked each of her four eyes. She would let this pass for now. She would allow someone else to give her orders. She would follow the fool who thought to go after her. And when the time came she would deal with him._

_"Just remember, my naive emotion." Raven declared. "I'll be watching every move from now on."_

_The one who singlehandedly took control of half of the Hells left the safety of her mind and set forwards. Her conviction had never been fiercer and her ability was completely infallible. The hunt was on._

Fiery. Roasting. Scalding. All the things Beastboy hated about the desert. He had been born in a sheltered rainforest and raised in a temperate city climate. He was used to the cool breeze brought in by the ocean, fond of overcast clouds and low-bearing fog. He liked the cold, nothing like this place.

Blazing heat, sources both above and below. The ambient inferno of Hell and the reflection from the sands beneath his feet. Memories of travels through the deserts of Earth were a welcome relief, but only a brief break from the Hell he was traveling through.

Ardent. Torrid. Fervent. This was all that was left. Finding words to describe how awfully warm it was. How awfully uncomfortable it was. How awfully awful the situation had turned out to be.

Footprints were left on the dunes, remaining in the sand from the lack of wind that was so prevalent in the tundras of Earth. If something were to follow him, they would only need to follow his tracks but he didn't care. He was so close now.

Glacial. Frigid. Algid. It didn't work. If anything, thinking about cold things made the hot things worse. It wasn't going to get any better. He had to try something else.

The entrance to the next circle was at the end of the expanse of sand and Beastboy was determined to get there. He only had to traverse this sea of fire to get there.

Perseverance. Determination. Infallibility. That's better. Strong thoughts, reminders of what he had to do, what he had to accomplish. Of course the sand building in his clothes didn't help to motivate him.

He knew it would be no small feat to make it to the end, but hours into the journey wore on his endurance. Since he was unhindered by the objects that stopped him from morphing before, he tried many variations of traditional desert-dwelling creatures.

Flying was for naught as the temperature seemed to increase along with his altitude and the currents and thermals he usually employed to increase the distance of his flight were non-existent. He only managed to fly for a mile before having to abandon for fear of his feathers burning off. He barely missed the crash course on how Icarus must have felt.

Cold-blooded creatures fared ever so slightly better, but there were no shadows to rest in. Since light and heat came from every direction, there were no crevasses to take shelter in, dunes to hide under, or plants to blend in to. The snakes he was so fond of were able to side-wind very efficiently in the sand, but he just wasn't covering the distance he needed to get to the other side in good time.

Another animal he tried was the giant dog creature that stood on guard on Starfire's home planet. The features of the landscape were hot and barren and Beastboy wanted to see if the animal would be able to thrive in the extreme environment. He remembered that even after all this time, he still couldn't get his tongue to properly name it.

He even tried a long stretch as a camel, as the creatures were designed for lengthy trips in waterless environments. He was able to cover several miles this way, but there was no way to conjure water from nothing and his form lost energy from his humps with every passing minute.

He went back to his human form and trudged along. His hands swung by their sides in lieu of the pockets he would have certainly made use of. All that was left to do was keep his mind occupied while finding the edge of the God-forsaken desert.

A thought crossed his mind. An accomplishment that he never thought he would complete. A milestone he never thought he'd mark. A sight that he would never have known to even exist.

He had never seen a minotaur before today. He thought they were mythical creatures, but seeing one in the flesh was awe-inspiring. The power and grace the creature commanded was enviable. The sheer size was phenomenal. The only thing comparable would be the Lady on Liberty Island.

The only thing more amazing than seeing a mythical beast was the number of people it resided over. His keen eyes couldn't even separate the movements, the damned souls all moving together like a river, each soul undistinguishable from the other.

So many people trapped in punishment for their violence. Even more for their other crimes. So many people being punished for their sins. So many people committing sins to deserve it.

"Why do people sin?" He wondered aloud. A shiver danced along his neck that he recognized instantly. "Any ideas, my handsome friend?" He said.

Another green figure entered his peripheral vision. "Just the one I'm afraid.

Beastboy sighed. "Go for it."

His doppelganger cracked his possessed knuckles and leaned his head back. "I'd say one word sums it up. 'Emptiness'."

Beastboy looked over with his eyebrow raised. "How do you figure?"

"It's the reason for everything too. The reason people do anything, good or bad. Filling the void that everyone has inside them."

"Is it really that hard to resist the compulsion?"

This time the doppelganger sighed. "Depends on the person, really. Life experiences, people they're with, even the things they do change how they live. If there were a single answer, it'd be over and done with. Unfortunately, no one is so lucky." The apparition stared into the distance. "The curse of humanity."

Beastboy nodded his head absent-mindedly. The heat was getting to him again, making him lose interest in the subject. He just had to keep walking.

Just keep walking.

* * *

Asmodea had been less than helpful as usual. The demon had an agenda of her own and tried to manipulate the empath once again to no avail. All she had to do was wait until the princess of Lust used her wiles and tricks.

Apparently she had sent the fool to an impossible destination. On the off-chance he would have survived the grueling journey through eight circles of Hell, he would have found the way to the final circle completely impassable.

The realm of Betrayal was shut to all but the damned and those that were betrayed themselves. The empath frequented the circle because of Malchior and all the terrible deeds he had personally committed, worst of them being betraying her trust.

Beastboy would find himself stuck in the deepest levels of damnation with no way to move forwards, find that the perilous path he took was for naught. He should have known never to trust the demon. He should never have tried to come in the first place.

He deserved to be punished for even thinking about saving her. The demon deserved to be punished for misleading him. She deserved to be punished for not being vigilant to know what was going on in her own worlds.

Here she stood, overlooking the desert where all those who were violent and murderous in life were punished. Those who were violent against others, themselves, and God itself. Since he needed to get even deeper into Hell, she made a search pattern that would find him wherever he was.

She wandered through the circle of Heretics, only to find nothing but a trail leading into the distance. She had floated above the burning lake where the damagers of people and property were submerged. She strolled through the trees that were once suicide victims with no trace of the shapeshifter. There was only this: The endless tundra.

For the blasphemers, only terror awaited them. They were chased in the sweltering heat by big bloody mastiffs. Uneven and shifting sands beneath their feet, unbearable temperatures, chased in an unending fight for a shadow of survival. It was a fascinating scene. Even though there was no hope for escape or redemption, they still fought as though there were.

She had to find some sign of his presence or he would be lost in the desert with no chance for survival. Even with the range her eyes could see, the massive dunes blocking most of the sand floor. She rose several meters in the air and hovered across the outer edges of it, looking for the slightest hint of a human presence.

She spotted a slight displacement in the sand a mile of and flew towards it. Immediately she knew what it was. Footprints in the sand were unmistakable. And proper footprints too, from the looks of it. He was barefooted across the desolate sands, devoid of the shoes and uniform that shifted with him.

They led into the distance so she followed them with some haste. Seeing the slightest existance of his presence made her quake with fury. The hunt had finally begun and she was imagining all the things she would do to him once she found him.

* * *

Was it a hundred or a thousand? No, more than that. He lost count of the dunes he walked over days ago. Or was it weeks ago? Time had no way of being measured down here. There was no sun, no moon, and no stars to follow. He felt that he had been walking for months.

He looked back at the trail he made. So many footprints, numbering in the thousands. He cursed, they weren't even in a straight line. They looked lazy, drawn out. There were deep depressions when he fell on his knees from the exhaustion, but he got up and continued from pure determination.

He was sweating out of every inch of his skin. His energy slowly seeped out as well, muscles failing with frightening ease. The acidic feeling that came from over-exertion ate away at him, but he fought through the pain.

A particularly tall dune showed up in front of him. Beastboy rolled his eyes and took a long deserved breath. He put one foot in front of the other and climbed up the side of the dune.

The sand crumbled under his feet, forcing him to rise a couple of inches with each step. The incline steepened as well, so he had to use his hands as an extra source of leverage.

The top loomed over him and he slumped over the edge. His eyes closed, happy to rest for even a moment. He sighed a little harder than usual and sand flared up right in front of his face.

He coughed hard to clear any sand in his mouth, but his throat was too parched to make a distance.

He groaned and opened his eyes, blinking a couple times to clear his vision. Something amazing appeared in the horizon. An end to the sand. Structures in the distance. This was it, the end to everything. A smile crossed his face and he closed his eyes in celebration.

It was too much for his grip to take and he tumbled back down. He hit the ground harder than he could take.

His body was beat up and exhausted. The heat was overbearing. His skin was rubbed raw from the contact with the sand. Even though the end was within sight and grasp, he couldn't muster up the energy to get back up and move on.

His body just rested in the sand, not moving and breathing shallowly at best.

This was it, the end to everything.

* * *

She followed the path that his trail led her on, pacing along with the footprints in the ground. They changed every now and again. She noticed camel hoofmarks clearly etched in the dunes for several miles. They changed every so often, ranging from mammals to reptiles. Warm-blooded to cold-blooded and back again.

The tracks even stopped for a while, forcing her to rise into the air and search frantically for a trail to pick back up. Her demonic eyes spotted miniscule tracks in the far distance, so she rushed to them. The sand was disturbed in a large impact pattern with small claw marks leading away from them. The birds feet turned back into human that strode into the distance once more.

As she continued along the trail, she remembered a story she once read ages ago. A goddess that was feared by all. She lived in a forest where she people seldom travelled. The goddess walked barefooted through the woods, leaving behind a trail of footprints as she went.

She didn't have regular feet though. They were back to front. It was invaluable for both her survival and her power. When brave men entered the forest to find and kill her, they would easily find the trail she left and follow it to no end. When scared men tried to escape her and saw her trail, they would run directly towards her.

Ingenious and devious, but a tactic she couldn't find a reason for and something that Beastboy certainly wouldn't employ.

The tracks lengthened, a marker that the shapeshifter was losing energy and dragging his feet. She grinned with sharpened fangs. She caught his scent. He was close now. Close enough for her to be able to taste him.

She put on an extra burst of speed, eager to catch her prey. The footsteps led up a steep dune, only to fall into a massive slide of displaced sand, tumbling to the base.

At the end of the dune was a crumpled heap of leather with touches of green beneath it. Something hitched at her breath. This was it. The moment she was waiting for.

She jumped down beside him, her cloak flowing from the air and slumping into the sand as she did. The fabric was whisked out of the way and Beastboy's form was inches away from her.

He was covered in a pitiful amount of leather, ripped, torn, and worn from the heat and movement it had to endure. She flexed her fingers, measuring the length of her claws.

Her eyes spotted spots in the clothes where they were singed. She took her claws and ripped the aging shirt off, showing faint outlines of bone against the green skin of the lightweight fighter. His back was visible now with the leather removed, his legs crooked and his arms by his side, palms up. Only the side of his face was visible, but that didn't stop her from intensely scrutinizing his face.

Three years they had spent apart and she had forgotten what he looked like. Now that she was next to him, he didn't look to be more than a few days older than when she left him.

She straightened his legs and body so that they were level to the ground, then stripping the rest of the leather from his back. The green skin was a strange contrast to the orange sand and red sky. An unnatural sight in the abyssal realms, one that had to be removed.

She straddled his back and placed her rough claws on his shoulders, drawing them back slowly. Paler green lines formed where her claws were and parts of skin were flared from the sharpness. His body shivered from the feeling and his face scrunched slightly. Her eyes twinged without her permission and a foreign feeling spread across her body.

She had to act fast. She brought the points of her claws to the space between his ribs. If she pressed down hard enough, she would pierce his lungs and heart, silencing the voice within her once and for all.

It would be so easy. The body was vulnerable and fragile. Unconscious and completely defenseless should she strike him down where he rested. Her hands were poised and ready to sink into his flesh, an instant solution to her every problem.

Her claws broke the skin and she could feel the curve of his ribs guide her to the soft space between them. Small droplets of crimson life-force showed up next to her claws, staining them with the promise of silence. The faint tang of metal danced around her mouth, the taste of blood making it water.

A trickle of blood fell down his side with the gentle pull of gravity, his brow furrowing from the pain and non-comforting feeling of wet against dry. His lungs retracted and expanded, slowly easing itself into her waiting clutches.

She loved this. Here, she was all powerful. His life in her hands. An inch of bone and sinew separating her from vital organs that would fail from her actions. The very power that was life in her possession.

Something held her back. The sight of red amongst the green canvas pulled at her heart-chords. The beating in her chest quickened, both from fear and worry. A single bead of sweat trickled down her forehead and her breath grew more ragged.

Something was surfacing within her, growing more powerful and with exponential speed. She began to feel control over her body fade and she knew exactly what it was.

Acting quickly, she straightened her arms and hands into line and pushed as hard as she could with the intention of killing the changeling in an instant.

As the force of the killing blow reached her fingers, the muscles locking them into place failed, her palms impacting against his back instead. Her eyes widened and her breathing stopped. No. It was already too late.

She closed her eyes and rose up again, straightening her fingers for one last thrust but it was too late. Her body didn't obey her commands and her mind was failing her again. She opened her eyes but her vision didn't return with it. She tried to yell out, but her voice failed her.

A spark grew brighter at the back of her mind, a single flame licking at her subconscious that burned hotter and faster by the second. A crackle of electricity shot along her spine and the flame followed it, forcibly traveling through her nerves to reach every fiber of her being.

Her hair flew forwards to cover her face when her head jerked downwards. The quartet of demonic eyes vanished beneath the threads of her long violet hair and she grew still for a moment. Feeling flowed back into her body as the previous tenant returned to her place of residence. Raven raised her head with purpose anew, looking on the world with human eyes.

The situation felt alien. Raven had spent so long in the confines of her mind that she had forgotten what it was like to simply be. To have hair that fell and moved with gravity. To have eyes that stung from being open too long. To breathe, actually breathe.

Something warm pressed against the inside of her thighs and her hands were on top of something smooth but bumpy. She looked down and saw an unusual shade of green, something that sparked at her old memories.

She felt her hands up the object, her touch seeing better than her eyes. They smeared against a small amount of moisture and along what felt to be a ribcage. Her fingers found the shoulder blades and collar bone, reinforcing the fact that it was a body she was on top of.

She felt up to the nape of his neck before her eyes could see properly. Green hair was brushing up against her fingers. Half of his face was also visible and the sight made her gasp.

Beastboy was the body beneath her. His face was beat up and his body sweaty. Red streaks marred his back.

She sniffed and sensed the familiar scent of blood. Eight pricks of blood in a straight line on his back, fresh too. She smelled blood somewhere else too. She lifted her hands to her face and saw drops of blood on the tips of her nails.

Her eyes widened with fear. She quickly bathed her hands in the blue healing light and thrust them onto his back, frantically pouring her energy into him. The wounds on his back closed, leaving the smears of blood with no source to tie it to.

His brow relaxed and his face grew calmer. She could sense his strength returning at the same rate hers waned.

She broke off contact, not feeling comfortable with giving him too much to handle. Her hands returned to her sides and she shifted off of him. Her eyes moved to the closest hand to hers, so she took it between her fingers.

Her heart skipped a beat. The touch of her skin against his was sublime. It was warmer than usual, but his heartbeat was the same as she was used to. The same heartbeat she felt when she hugged him for the first time. It was the same as when she tied him to a table when he was possessed by her father. The same as when he carried her after Malchior was unleashed.

She leaned down and let his hand touch her chakra. A single tear fell from her eye, impacting on the palm of his hand. It had been far too long.

Something shifted beneath her cloak so she stifled the faint sob that was eating the back of her throat and reached to touch it. Cool metal played on her fingers . She took it and held it in front of her, instantly recognizing it as the Horn of the Herald.

Raven had seen her form when she took it from the armory, her Fury looking through the items Beastboy left behind. She brought a hand to her chest and felt the medallion he left as well around her neck.

In a profound sense of pity, she placed the horn next to him and leaned down again, his face inches from hers. His unconscious form made her feel at peace, like there wasn't a thing in the world to care about.

Her hand caressed his cheek, savoring the touch of his face. She didn't want to leave him again, but she knew she must. She couldn't leave Hell. She deserved to be there. All the terrible things she had done had to be punished. She had realms to control and souls to condemn. She didn't deserve to go back.

Raven brought her mouth close to his ear. "You've gone far enough, Beastboy." She whispered. "Please go back home. Go back for me."

It pained her to say it, but it had to be said. To the wonderful man who came after her. To the amazing man who braved the depths of depravity to find her. To the inspiring man who just wanted to bring her back, but she couldn't let him. It was too late for her.

A strand of hair fell across his face, so she brushed it so it rested behind his ear. Her eyes shut tightly to stopper the tears that were threatening to release. With a final sigh, she stood up, turned around and walked away.

It pained her to do so, but it had to be done. He didn't belong in Hell. She did. She had to make the sacrifice for the both of them.

Leaving him behind was the hardest thing she could remember doing, if not because of just simply leaving him than making the meaning of his trip null.

She walked to the edge of the desert where the heat became bearable again and where she was a safe distance away from where Beastboy rested. Her mind was in turmoil at the sight of him and at the confirmation of his presence. She had to sort her emotions out, something she had a handle on for years.

As she reached the end of the sands, she remembered the thing she never did when she left him for the first time. She looked back.

He was standing on top of the dune he fell from, horn in hand. His body was facing hers and she wondered if he could see her from so far away. The look on his face was not one of defeat but of resolve. With renewed energy, he walked down and started towards the end he had seen before.

Raven looked down. "Stupid idiot." She mumbled to herself.

The empath did nothing to dissuade the changeling to turn back and she was sure that it would come back to haunt her. He had come this far to see her, wherever she went he would surely follow. It was an experience she most certainly did not want to live through.

She couldn't imagine what would be worse about their confrontation, her own guilt from abandoning him or the look he would adorn when he discovered his pains had been for naught.

A thought crossed her mind. Running away was never a noble thing to do, but it was the only way to keep him at bay. She just had to run to a place he could never follow her to.

Betrayal. It was a sin she committed and a place she frequented. It was what she was committing again by refusing to see the changeling. It was a place he could never enter.

She closed her eyes and summoned a portal to the next circle. She wanted to see her father before retreating to the realm of ice. It was a cowardly thing she was doing, but she hoped that Beastboy would understand.

Beastboy.

Raven shook her head and cursed under her breath.

"Stupid idiot."

A smile crossed her face and she looked back at him again before disappearing into her portal.

"Loyal idiot."

**To Be Continued.**

**Final two chapters to follow in the coming days. I'm glad of the free time I've been given and will use it to conclude my affairs.**

**Amenson out.**


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter IX: Fraud**

**Previously:** '_A thought crossed her mind. Running away was never a noble thing to do, but it was the only way to keep him at bay. She just had to run to a place he could never follow her to._

_Betrayal. It was a sin she committed and a place she frequented. It was what she was committing again by refusing to see the changeling. It was a place he could never enter._

_She closed her eyes and summoned a portal to the next circle. She wanted to see her father before retreating to the realm of ice. It was a cowardly thing she was doing, but she hoped that Beastboy would understand.'_

Malebolge: A realm of Order and Chaos. Ten castles connected by ten bridges, all in perfect synchronization and unison around the deepest chasm in all of creation.

A realm of fraudulent actions. Ten castles punishing the many forms lies and deceptions take.

A realm of despair and pain. The lord of Terror watching over the sin considered the most conscious of them all. Trigon watched over all in his throne of power.

As per the responsibilities of the Ruler of the Hells, he oversaw everything that happened in his domain. So when he heard of the shapeshifter loose in his lands, he knew that he had to do something about it.

The changeling had much to answer for. He singlehandedly disrupted Trigon's most recent plan to escape Hell and was partially responsible for the first. The lord of Terror once had the chance to make the mortal squeal for a few hours. He wanted to resume that for the rest of eternity.

He most certainly would have killed the green one while in Asmodea's control or apprehended him during the short time in Dis' prison, but his agents failed to act before the escape.

His agents also noted other parties vying for possession of this 'Beastboy'. That piece of information let them survive with their skins intact, an unusual act of mercy even for Trigon.

The assorted interests in the changeling intrigued the demon greatly. When he saw the hero at work, the attempts at bravery were feeble at best and the personality mild and boring. What anyone else saw in him was nothing short of a puzzlement.

His daughters' interest was even more so. The princess of Lust probably saw nothing more than a walking fling, but the princess of Pride? His heir left her old life behind and became dedicated to the politics of the Hells, yet she skirted around the boy's path a with suspicious air of tolerance.

She had appeared barely an hour ago, disheveled and on the run. Her aura was different too. Human. Weak. And then she came to her father, her face distraught and confused. She didn't say much, she didn't have to. He could see everything that she held over her head. Guilt. Regret. Fear. All running through her mind like a plague.

Her commands were short and simple and Trigon had no reason to go against them. She had a plan, foolish as it was, but he would abide by it.

His old eyes still saw everything and he noticed when a small green figure appeared on the cliff top of the seventh circle. They narrowed with anger and memories, remembering all the times he was stopped by the insignificant wretch.

He remembered the satisfaction of the pain he put the changeling through and the dismay when his torture was cut short. He remembered the day on Earth when his daughter's friends caused him so much suffering and anger.

Trigon quaked with rage. If it were up to him, the 'Beastboy' would be torn limb from limb before him, skinned alive and burned so his bones would darken and break. If the Lord of Terror had his way, his blackened skull would decorate his throne.

He dug his claws into the wood of the throne, piercing screams and blood coming from the freshly made gashes. The throne was made from trees hewn in the circle of Violence, each one a punishment for the suicides. The agony lacing the sound fell on his ears like a sweet lullaby and he closed his eyes, relishing the moment.

He relaxed his claws and the screams stopped. The decision wasn't up to him. His daughter was adamant about his survival.

He remembered the green one he tortured, how the changeling squirmed under his gaze. That one deigned to come after her, to breach the dimensions for her was surprising.

No demon would stoop to performing an act for another. The sentiment was pointless and futile. Even the bond between genders never existed for him.

He gave his mother death because that was what she deserved. He gave Arella the privilege of his seed because that was what she was meant for. He gave his daughter rule over all because that was her birthright.

The green man intruding into the Hells confused him and his daughter had no reason for being the way she was. She was nervous and anxious, unsettled for what should have been a clear action. An easy decision, yet she had such trouble making it.

The second that Raven heard of this 'Beastboy', she should have killed or enslaved him. It was engraved into the being of every demon. They formed no bonds. Love didn't exist for them. They didn't dream, contemplate beauty, or believe in something greater than themselves.

He snorted at the stupidity of her actions. This changeling, this green shapeshifter would be a thorn in her side for as long as he was alive. That she was taking such great strides to avoid him was pure nonsense.

It mattered not. Raven wanted him alive and away from her. She ran to the circle of betrayal, a place a mere human could not hope to enter. She hoped to turn him away forever, to flee out of reach and force him to leave her behind. She commanded her father to make sure that he did.

Everything in his physiology told him to do the same thing he had done for millennia. Torment and terrorize. The philosophy that was ingrained into his personality. Everything he had done was akin to it.

The worst part was her fears. He could see what she was afraid of, what she knew would happen if he could reach her. What Raven feared most was not that she would forsake him, but that she wouldn't be able to refuse him.

Now that the harbinger of her worst fears was on his doorstep, Trigon would see him face to face.

He lifted a red hand with a single finger extended and a loud thump came from behind the throne. The finger extended to the top of the cliff far away and the wind fluttered out of place. The sound of heavy wings beating faded to the distance, the lithe form of Geryon flying to collect the changeling.

**(Scene Break)**

All that work of crossing the impossibly long desert only to find him at the head of a cliff that looked to be steeper than the desert was wide.

Beastboy cursed. It seemed that the deeper he descended into Hell, the larger things got. He remembered what was said about the depths of Tartarus. The Greeks believed that the afterlife was so deep that it would take a bronze anvil nine days and nights to fall to the bottom. They must have had some inside information because that's how far it seemed to go down.

It kind of made sense though, the learning curve for anything increased with the difficulty of it. He just didn't expect the same curve for the trip through Hell to be quite so, literal.

How would he get down though? The cliff looked fragile and unstable and the slightest failure to keep steady would result in a landslide that would only get larger and stronger the further the cliff went down. And just from looking at it, the cliff went down so very far.

The closest place where Beastboy expected he could land safely was miles down the cliff face. A very flat rock jutting out the side of the otherwise unstable and unbalanced cliff side.

It could take hours to get there. He couldn't just fall to it, the impact would cripple, if not kill whatever form he chose to make the descent with. If he were to fly to it and not keep a close eye on his air speed, any attempt to forcefully slow down would rip his wings off.

And if that was just to the first safe haven, how many more would it take before he reached the bottom? How long would it take to rest between jumps? How far could he go without rest? How many more days would pass before he could finally get to his destination. Weeks?

Beastboy sighed profusely. He couldn't catch a break at all. It was just one thing after another, wasn't it? He paced back and forth and weighed his options. Did he fly? Fall and turn into an amoeba seconds before impact? Would that even work at this length? Turn back to find a safer way to the eighth circle?

So many questions were throwing themselves around his head when something large landed behind him. A big and powerful creature from the sound of it. He could hear the sound of its breath, heartbeat, and growl emanating from its throat.

Beastboy whirled around to face it, body tensing to meet it in battle if any kind of fight happened. His eyes widened as he saw the creature.

It was a chimera, an amalgam of many different animals in one body. The paws of a lion, the body of a wyvern, the tail of a scorpion, and the face of a man. The perfect fusion of the natures of humanity, bestial, and reptilian.

A strange feeling sunk into the changeling. The face he looked in was very honest, the sort of face that held nothing but purity in it. A look that had no place in Hell. Whatever it was and whatever it looked like, nothing changed the fact that it wasn't friendly.

They were in a standoff. Beastboy, by principle, didn't attack without provocation and the creature made no attempts to intimidate or tempt the changeling into a fight.

A moment passed before the creature moved, lowering its closest shoulder to the ground as if beckoning the changeling to get on.

Beastboy did a double take. The challenging aura he felt from it had faded away almost as quickly as it had appeared. He knew that it wasn't there to stop him as so many others had tried before and that it wasn't acting of its own volition. It must have been sent to collect him.

The chimera snorted loudly and threw its shoulder around, trying to signal that he needed to hurry up. Beastboy walked towards it but kept alert. He wouldn't trust this creature completely.

As soon as he climbed onto it's back, the creature leapt forwards with lightning fast reflexes. At the distance covered by the chimera, Beastboy didn't think that he would stand a chance against it if they ever had to go toe to toe.

It practically flew over the top of the cliff and soared down with a ferocity and grace that the changeling never expected. Drake-like wings unfurled and caught the wind, gliding with expert motions through the air.

Beastboy was so caught up in the elation from moving so quickly that a thump jolted him back to his senses. The chimera had landed on the nearest solid ground in seconds where he was sure to have taken hours.

It padded from rock to rock, following a path that only one with experience could pull off. The powerful muscles in its hind legs proved themselves as they leapt off of stones and landed on others miles away in mere seconds.

Beastboy noticed an area where he doubted that even it could cross, but was forced to change positions as the chimera extended its sizable wings even further. The familiar feeling of his stomach entering his mouth hit him as it launched into the open sky.

Flying above a rocky cliff felt far better than over a hot desert and in between tall metropolitan buildings. There were no surfaces to worry about crashing into or weather to compete with. There were no predators in the sky to watch for, no prey to hunt for. Only the elation of flying remained.

The joys of flying were amazing as they were fleeting as Geryon made the trip considerably faster than he ever would. The base of the cliff came closer by the second and the chimera unfurled scaled wings to slow down before landing. He could hear the bones creak from the strain but they held firm, slowing them to prevent crashing.

As soon as the ground came close, the creature flew upright, forcing Beastboy from his spot. The changeling tumbled onto stone ground harshly, rolling a short distance away from the momentum.

He got up from the fall and brushed himself off. He could feel some pain from the shallow bruises that were beginning to form, but was otherwise unhurt. He looked around and saw an awe-inspiring sight.

He was on the ledge of a tall castle battlements, overlooking the whole of the circle of fraud.

He knew the circle was large but he could never have guessed how elegant it looked. It was like a combination of medieval architecture and geometric symmetry. Ten gulfs surrounded by ten castles, each one dedicated to the various crimes associated with treachery.

Seducers, flatterers, false prophets, corrupt politicians, hypocrites, and fraudulent advisors, all meeting their damnation in each of the structures before him. Beastboy wasn't surprised that short of those in Limbo not responsible for any major sins, this was where the most sinners were sent.

It was in human nature, to have more than others. It was just unfortunate that so many took what they needed from people without their consent.

Beastboy then sensed a presence behind him. A most terrifying presence and one that he dedicated to one being. The lord of Terror.

He turned around slowly and saw what he feared the most. Trigon sitting high on a throne, ivory crown resting comfortably on his head. Four blood red eyes looking down on him with an air of derision. Hooves pressing into the ground as if pretending that he was beneath them.

**"Kneel." **Trigon spoke the one word with such a commanding tone that Beastboy could do nothing but obey it.

The presence of the demon in his own domain was almost suffocating and Beastboy could do nothing to assert himself in any way. Everything that would happen would be decided by Trigon the Terrible.

Trigon stared at the changeling, trying to find out how he was able to get so far. **"I sense something within you shapeshifter. The being I created within you, yet the essence is unfamiliar. This is the reason you were able to pass by so many of my sentries without notice."**

Beastboy knew what he meant. The possession that Trigon instilled in him was scooped out and filled with his bestial nature.

**"I have never reversed something I have done for I take no action that deems withdrawal. Regardless, what I placed upon you is not the same as what you have now. Something has changed and I have no hold over it."**

Beastboy remained paralyzed, forced to listen to the demon without the chance to retreat or even lift his head. He would just have to pray to live through the encounter.

**"I desire to know more about how you came to be here. You remain in the land of the living while walking through the land of the dead. How can this be possible?"**

**"You must have found a portal here, though how you found one is a mystery. It must have been intentional for none would willingly come. The few who seek my power only wish it in the place where they reside. "**

The changeling was able to move his head into the slightest of nods.

**"Then it was done of your own volition. How did you happen across the way? No demon in the mortal realm had the power to send a being without an escort. "**

A moment of silence passed between them as Trigon waited for Beastboy to answer. It took every ounce of willpower to not whimper in fear and even more to find a response to the question.

His breath shuddered and his body quivered. He mustered up the courage to say one word before lapsing back into a state of paralysis.

"Orpheus."

An angry growl came from Trigon as the name brought the story forth for him.

**"I knew of the legend but was unaware the pathway still existed. Something will have to be done about that soon. Portals can learn to open both ways and it would break the truce if a lesser demon slipped into your dimension. "**

Beastboy silently cursed to himself. He knew that it would be a long shot that Raven would agree to come back with him and longer still to make it all the way back to the beginning, but he just lost his way back out. For all intents and purposes, he was stuck there.

**"I know why you are journeying here. Like Orpheus, you seek one who was wrongly taken away. You should be interested to know she wants nothing to do with you."**

Beastboy's ear twitched. Did he hear that right? What could that even mean?

**"She came to me expressing a firm desire for independence. She was very specific about what was to be done with you."**

He was in turmoil. He could understand her sacrifice. He could understand her accepting condemnation to the realm she was taught to fear and shun her entire life. What he couldn't understand was why she ran and hid from him.

The feeling was slowly coming back to the changeling. "That doesn't sound like her." He thought out loud.

Trigon grumbled, agreeing that he was right, but was unhappy to admit it. **"These actions do not befit a daughter of mine."**

A low hum emitted from his throat as he remembered how out of character his daughter acted. How very, human, she was.

**"Explain why you deserve to pass. Tell of how you plan to convince an accomplished demon to lower herself to your level again!"**

Beastboy heard the sneer in the demon's voice. He knew what the stakes were and how much of a long shot it would be to get Raven to come back with him. She already took enormous steps to avoid him and had been in Hell for a number of years. It would take every ounce of persuasion to remind her of her old life and how she needed to get back to it.

Either Beastboy's strength was returning faster than normal or Trigon was withdrawing his aura enough to allow him to talk. He thought long and hard, digging into the many thoughts he had during his long trek.

He had a month on Earth to plan the breakout and the many days in Hell trying to carry it out. He hadn't really thought much into a reason why she needed to come back with him.

He went over the events that led up to her sacrifice and what she must have gone through during that time. One aspect stood out to him and summed up the reason he went down to find her.

"She's here because of me. It's because of my incompetence that Raven was forced to take a drastic action. It was through my weakness that a dragon was set free. And it was through my faults that she was forced to sacrifice herself to save the rest of us."

Trigon looked at the changeling with an interest that he had never held towards the being before.

"I know that it's pointless to throw around blame, everyone has some part in what happens, but she doesn't deserve to be punished for my sins."

A flash of white broke through the emotionless face that Trigon held before. **"But those aren't your only sins, are they green one?" **He chuckled darkly. As a demon, he could see the guilt hanging over Beastboy's head.

**"Lust."**

**"Pride."**

**"Heresy." **

**"Treachery."**

As the demon listed each sin, the events that transpired while Beastboy committed them appeared before him.

**"You sinned to find the portal. You sinned to enter into Hell. You sinned to pass obstacles that blocked your way, but that isn't the worst sin you have committed, is it?"**

A cold chill ran down Beastboy's spine. It was like Trigon knew his darkest secrets. He could hear the demon lord moving off of his throne and move close to him. He could hear the skin of his back stretch and the warmth of his breath as he got close to the ground where the changeling knelt.

**"The horn was not given to you freely, was it green one?"**

Beastboy's heart almost stopped beating from the shock, both of the proximity of such a powerful creature and of how intelligent Trigon was.

All he could do was shake his head because his voice had been scared away

**"Stand, changeling and turn around." **Trigon commanded. The changeling obeyed without much choice. **"Look below."**

Beastboy looked down and saw a horrid sight. The castle he was on contained the thieves and robbers. His keen eyes saw unpredictable and hurried movement in every corner. Thousands of figure running and falling over each other trying to flee from a nest of snakes. The less fortunate were bitten profusely, reacting to the venom with rather vicious swelling.

The victims were all indistinguishable from each other, as if their punishment was to have their very identity stolen from them.

A soft growl reminded Beastboy that he wasn't alone. **"Take a good long look below you, green one. This is where you will be damned."**

Was he really a thief? Didn't his many years of crime fighting compare in any way?

**"No."**

Trigon answered as if he heard the question Beastboy just asked himself.

He knew it was a terrible thing he did but he had no choice. He was forced to be thief in the night as he was forced to when he was younger.

He had no choice in the matter. Trigon was right. He made a deal with a Satan worshipping cult to find the tomb. He stole the Spear of Destiny to help fight his way through. He succumbed to the advances of Raven's sister, but that wasn't the worst thing he had done.

He had learned to use the Herald's horn, but was able to do so with the condition of returning it after he survived the other dimension. Yet he had it. He knew that having it without permission made him just as guilty, if not worse than the condemned below.

Beastboy knew that what he had done was wrong. He had stolen what was precious from one of his fellow heroes for the slim chance that it would help him complete his solitary mission. What he did was unforgivable but he resolved to submit to any punishment should he return, successful or not.

The demon lord sneered. **"You both are weak, so much so that you are a disgrace to your kin."**

Beastboy looked down in shame. He knew what Trigon said was true.

**"But perhaps you will be strong enough together to find salvation."**

The changeling looked up in confusion.

**"You may pass, changeling, but I cannot take you to her. She has fled beyond even my reach." **Trigon returned to his throne. ** "If everything you have worked for comes to fruition, you will need to return to your world."**

A pointed ear perked up, an interest falling on it.

**"There is a portal in the deepest part of Hell, far beyond where the most heinous of sinners are punished. A boon from God for the select who are worthy enough to deserve redemption."**

A thousand thoughts raced through Beastboy's head. He could never have hoped to get past Trigon alive, let alone with another way out.

**"Take heed though, young warrior. God holds no love and will give no recompense to those of my kind. Such is our exile and damnation to this realm. I know not what would transpire if a half-breed were to go through it, nor one filled with the power of a demon, as you are."**

Trigon lifted a finger and summoned a portal, red energy turning the ground into an abyss. They were both spat out a moment later at the top of an abyss. Beastboy knew that it was the edge of the eighth circle and at the entrance to the ninth.

The changeling looked back at the harbinger of doom. "Why are you telling me this? Why not just kill me?"

**"Why indeed?"** The demon grumbled to himself. ** "I certainly would have, long before you even made it past Cerberus, if not for your relationship with her. It is for Raven's sake that you still possess life. Nothing else."**

Beastboy blinked. He had always assumed he had been relatively under the radar this whole time. He never thought that he was both known to be there and tolerated at the same time. "Well, uh. Thanks, I guess."

**"Be on your way, weak one. Pray that we do not meet again." **With that, Trigon summoned a portal in front of him and disappeared into it, warping back to his throne and resting upon it as he always had.

He watched as the shapeshifter looked into the abyss, trying so valiantly to reunite with his companion. Trigon would be interested in what the green one did to enter the forbidden realm. It was a puzzlement, how far Beastboy fell and what he did just to see one person again.

Trigon closed his eyes, shook his head, and muttered. **"Humans."**

**To Be Continued**


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter X: Betrayal**

**The finale of this story. It took much longer to submit than it should have done, but it's complete now. Just one thing I'd like to know if you deign to tell me at the end of the story. Is it comparable to the prequel?**

**My thanks to everyone who gave their support. I hope this story was suitable to your needs and that you are satisfied with the following. It's been one Hell of a ride!**

**Previously:**_**"Be on your way, weak one. Pray that we do not meet again." **__With that, Trigon summoned a portal in front of him and disappeared into it, warping back to his throne and resting upon it as he always had._

_He watched as the shapeshifter looked into the abyss, trying so valiantly to reunite with his companion. Trigon would be interested in what the green one did to enter the forbidden realm. It was a puzzlement, how far Beastboy fell and what he did just to see one person again. _

_Trigon closed his eyes, shook his head, and muttered. __**"Humans."**_

Giants bridge the world between the lowest circles of Hell. They guard the only entrance, only giving way to the most heinous of sinners and those that were betrayed by them. They were once a force to be reckoned with, a threat to every plane of existence, that even God feared. Now, the few that remain reside in the deepest bowels of perdition, biding their time.

That was where she was. She thought to flee to a place where he couldn't follow, to force him to turn back. To go back to Earth empty-handed and leave her where she resigned herself to.

There was no way he could do that. He had done too much and come too far to just give up. Too much time had passed already for both of them. She meant too much to him for Beastboy to turn back now, else he would have turned back at the desert.

He also knew Raven. He had been in the furthest reached of her mind, seen things that she wasn't sure of herself. He knew her past, all the time spent controlling the worst parts of herself. He also knew of a future without him, without her friends. How she suffered in her isolation, how the pain of loneliness ate away everything that was good about her.

The fact that she ran away from him was an indicator that she was reluctant.

If she had wanted nothing but to leave the world she had spent years in behind, she would have met him the second she heard about his arrival.

If she succumbed to her demonic side and wanted to stay in Hell, she would have killed him without a second thought.

He was still alive and she took strides to avoid him, meaning she had mixed feelings. Part of Raven was still there, and Beastboy was confident that he could talk some sense into her.

He just hoped that she would listen.

Beastboy stood at the edge of a circle. Just before him was a chasm the likes of which he had never seen before. The cliff between the seventh and eighth circle was massive, he would be the first to admit it. What he saw here was incomparable.

The circle of Fraud could be seen at the base of the cliff that Geryon traversed. There was nothing below the edge here.

A thousand leagues of land could be seen on either side of him. The majestic and terrible castles of Trigon towered behind him but large as they were, the abyss he stared into was infinitely deeper.

There was no end to the darkness. There was nothing to stop any light to reflect whatever was down below. There was no mist, haze, wind, or magic. There didn't even need to be. The final circle was so far down, it would take days just to fall to the bottom. And even if there was any, he couldn't keep awake long enough to ensure to see the bottom before he hit it and he probably wouldn't have the energy to stop himself from a fall of such height.

He stood in awe of the monumental power before him. He could feel the depth of it in his bones. He could sense the vast expanse of nothing before him. He knew that it was the simplest yet most effective way to keep people out. And this was what he had to traverse.

He closed his eyes and extended his awareness as far as it could reach. There was something down there to be sure. He just couldn't tell if it was his final destination or something... bigger.

A euphoric feeling washed over him, triggering memories of a calm night overlooking the sea. He staggered a bit because he didn't expect to see such a vivid sight before him. He could taste the salt from the water that wasn't there and feel the damp of the breeze that didn't exist.

A horn blew from so far away. The tide seemed to carry the tune straight to the changeling, completely overtaken by the sound.

A single note that had a peal that made thunder feeble, yet sounded so sad, so lonely. Calling out for something, anything.

It sounded like it was crying and beautiful. So powerful that it hoped to summon what was lost from wherever it may have been.

Without meaning it, Beastboy's hand strayed to the trumpet behind him. Something about the metal seemed more natural, as if the horn wanted to stay here, where it belonged.

He didn't have much choice and didn't see anything wrong with just blowing a trumpet. What harm could possibly happen with making a sound?

He brought the mouthpiece to his lips and blew, a low hum coming from the bell. The sound surrounded him and everything in the area. The tone sounded happier than it usually did, almost elated to return the sound that had been calling for so very long.

As soon as the last echo of the horn was heard from the area, an even greater sound reached him. The clear noise of rock being forcefully torn apart broke the silence that filled the chasm.

The sound came again and again, melding one on top of another and blasting Beastboy with sounds completely unknown to him. The deafening roar could more closely be identified as the Earth shattering. Quite literally, the sheer power of the sound itself made him think that entire continents of stone were being ripped apart by nothing but force.

Beastboy was overwhelmed. He knew that there would be nothing quite as awe inspiring as what he was witness to. Even if he were to stand on a planet ripping apart by the seams, it would barely compare.

The sounds of rock being sundered died down, slowly being replaced with loud impacts. The force of the impacts jarred his jaw even so far away.

As the moments passed, the time between sounds increased. For thunderstorms, longer time meant that the brunt of nature was moving further away. If what Beastboy thought was making the noise was right, this was something entirely different.

Something was massive, something was infinitely powerful, and something was rising from the depths of the abyss, from the very bowels of Hell itself.

He stared into the hole, searching for anything that would explain the uproar that was assaulting every one of his senses.

His eyes bore into the darkness, struggling to find anything to identify. A light surface rose up slowly, breaking through the black of the abyss. More and more of the object became visible, a large column heading right towards him.

The column raised itself to the same level as the edge, allowing for Beastboy to get a good look at it. He couldn't even begin to describe it but what he could see was the size of it.

It must have been the size of a city, rounded and almost perfectly circular. It was lined with ridges that were the size of mountains, joined in a peculiar pattern.

He felt something strange. The appearance of another presence. A heartbeat that dwarfed his own and it came from the column.

It was then he knew what it was. The object that raised up to meet him was a finger. A massive finger. Beastboy was stunned at the size of it. If this monstrous thing was a finger, than how big was the hand? The arm? The body itself?

The finger moved close to him and pressed against the ledge Beastboy was watching from, as if it meant to serve as a form of transportation.

Beastboy didn't have much of a choice in the matter. It was everything he could have hoped for when the impossible was set before him. He jumped onto the finger and waited for it to move again.

The journey to the base was stunning on so many counts. He was able to catch glimpses of the giant while it lowered him down to the final circle. He could barely believe what he was seeing.

The face was dark and scarred, showing no signs of intelligence or thought. There were bits of rock and dust falling from the giant's shoulders, but compared to the size of the giant, these rocks could have easily dwarfed Everest.

He would never have believed that such a creature could exist if he didn't see the proof, the size was impossible. Beastboy knew from experience that there was a limit on how big a singular creature could be. He had seen large. He had seen monstrous. He had never seen physically giant.

As he was lowered to the ground, he could see the world of ice he was being dropped to. It was as if an entire world of water was frozen in time. His final destination was nearing and he couldn't help but feel a sense of anticipation sprinkled with a marginal amount of fear.

The realization of what could happen flashed in front of his eyes. What if she rejected him? What if she killed him the second she saw him. What if she weren't even there?

He feared that he might have made a wasted journey. That everything that he had done had been for naught.

He shook his head. These thoughts were unbecoming of a hero or of even a man. There was no sense in hoping for an outcome or praying that something would come to pass. All he could do was follow through with his plan. He would see how this would pan out whether it worked or not.

The ground drew closer and he could see a ledge not far from where he was being lowered to. As the edge came towards him, he leapt onto the ice. He looked back at the hand and saw that it was open in front of him. Almost as if it was waiting for something more from him.

He remembered how he was able to summon it in the first place. How sad the song was and how long it must have been calling for. He looked at the horn in his hand. He was torn. The Giant was clearly waiting for Beastboy to leave it but he wanted to return it to the Herald should he ever make it back alive.

He had to make a choice and a hard one at that. Should he leave payment for transportation and be forced to explain how it was lost or should he focus on returning a precious item to the one he called 'Friend'.

He thought long and hard and could only come to one conclusion. He took the horn into his hand and threw it into the waiting grasp of the giant. As the instrument flew closer to the hand, the fingers withdrew around it.

With the object returned to it, the hand withdrew even further down into Hell, the Giant dropping below what would be an impossible depth. With the increasing lengths between the seventh and ninth circles, Beastboy didn't want to dwell on how much further down the hand would go or where the rest of the body dwelled.

He turned and walked towards the middle of the ice field. The ice was untouched, as if no one had ever walked across it before. The deeper it got, the mistier it became but Beastboy wasn't focused on how far down it went.

What he was now focused on were the many figures encased in the ice. He had seen a black speck every now and again before, but now the ice was filled with what looked to be people sinking. All of them were in different stages of the ice floe, but Beastboy knew they were all still conscious, alive.

It must have been the ultimate punishment for the worst sin, to be trapped with no hope of getting back to the surface. To be frozen, the ice cooling and burning every inch of them at the same time. To try to breathe but have nothing but never-melting ice against their lungs.

Hell must have been designed by a genius. To the common man, each punishment for sins appeared to get continually worse based on the crimes and sins they committed. That wasn't it at all. All the punishments were severe, none of them greater or less than the other. To be stuck in a perpetual state of Limbo for all eternity would be punishment enough.

It was that they would spend their afterlife for as long as time passed. Anything would seem a torture if it never ended. Even being pampered and spoiled would lose its appeal if the same were to happen for a few centuries.

His thoughts were interrupted by a flash of gold beneath the ice. His gaze drew downwards towards a lone figure closer to the surface than any of the others he had seen. Golden hair floating just inches below the thin crust of ice. Close enough to recognize the color.

Close enough to see her face.

He called her many things in his life, but he could say only one of them now. "Terra."

Her eyes were closed but he imagined them looking back at him. Her face looked so peaceful underneath the ice. So serene. He remembered everything they had done together. So many happy memories from what seemed like years ago. But then of course it was years.

He never stopped believing in her. Even after betraying him again, he harbored no ill will towards the geomancer. He could have saved her, if not for the manipulations of Slade. He spent many nights crying his eyes out, wishing for another chance. Events played in his mind about what could have been, how things could be different if only one thing were to change.

He was forgiving to the end, really. That's the reason why he saw past what Terra became and onto what she should have been. The reason he went back to her grave every year since that time. The reason he was looking for Raven in the first place.

He had to let her go though. However famously they got on in the past, he wasn't here for her. He had a place to get to and he meant to get there.

Beastboy brushed any debris on the ice above her. He didn't know why he did it, there probably wasn't any point to it either. He just wanted for her to see just a bit clearer. If her eyes were to open again, he wanted the light to shine on her just a bit brighter.

He bowed his head for a moment in respect to her, everything she had done and everything that she was. He had and always would have the utmost respect for her.

It pained him to leave the geomancer behind, but he knew he had to. He had one last thing to do before his journey were to end. Just one more and he would feel complete again.

His eyes spotted a hole in the distance. An ice cavern leading below the ground, going somewhere Beastboy had no clue about. He felt a familiar presence in it though. Something that no amount of ice or power could hold back.

She was there.

He took slow and deliberate steps into the ice cavern, unsure about what was in it. The air was glacial now and didn't even wait to leave his lungs before turning to crystal vapors. He could feel tendrils of cold lick his ankles, threatening to take his feet and the legs from under him.

On Earth, he could have hoped for a full complement of thermal clothes or the sense to take the form of a polar bear or penguin. Here, he was bare-footed and all but bare-chested in this sea of ice.

It didn't really matter though. This would be his final destination. He passed the point of no return days ago and he certainly wasn't going to give up now. He would find her in this realm of cold or join the millions who perished beneath the ice.

The ice cleared the further he went into the cavern, showcasing figures trapped in plain sight. The first couple had their arms twisted behind their back. The next appeared to be strangling himself.

The last one was awfully familiar. White hair. Fair skin. Poised in a way that appeared that he was gouging his own eyes out. Maybe he was and Raven stopped him in the middle of it. Maybe she forced him to do so and for good reason. He was the reason she never trusted anyone.

Malchior.

"You shouldn't be here." Came a monotone voice from behind Beastboy. A voice that could only belong to one person.

He didn't turn around. He didn't have to. "Yet here I am."

Soft footsteps padded towards him, causing small goose bumps to form on the back of his neck. A purple-haired woman stood beside him, looking at the dragon that was the cause of so many of their ills. "Is there some villain you want me to stop?"

Beastboy looked to his right, eyes falling on the woman he journeyed so far to find. He searched her face for something to relate to. Her eyes were the same but her expression was foreign.

Aged. Serious. Even more than what he was used to in the years they were together. "Does there have to be?" He replied.

She stared ahead, face motionless. "Is there another reason to break a superhero from Hell?"

He looked shocked. Is this what she was expecting? "I don't need a reason to bring back a dear friend from a fate she doesn't deserve."

"But I do deserve it. I almost destroyed the world. Demons belong in Hell."

"You're only a demon if you think you are. You're human too! You belong on Earth just as much!"

Raven looked into his eyes for the first time in years. He hadn't changed a bit. A grin crossed her face, something that also hadn't happened in years.

She tried to talk but couldn't find the words for it. "I... can't go with you. I've been here for so long, it's my home now."

He put his hand on her shoulder, glad that she didn't flinch from his touch. "Are you happy here though? Is this what you want?"

Her head lowered, bangs covering her eyes. "It's where I deserve to be."

"No it isn't!" Beastboy insisted. "You deserve more. Come back with me. Starfire's been missing you. The world hasn't been the same without you."

A feeling of nostalgia spread through her. Typical of Beastboy to use such a simple statement to justify his actions.

He turned to her and held out his hand. "Please Raven. The world needs you. We need you. I need you."

She turned towards him and looked up. Her eyes welled up with tears, threatening to fall.

He didn't say anything else. He didn't need to. Her hand inched towards his, both of their heart quickening as their skin moved closer together.

Raven's pale hand hovered over his green one, fingers brushing against his own. The emotional strain was too much to hold back. She pushed his hand back to his side, making his eyes fall with disappointment.

It didn't last for long as Raven lunged forwards, arms wrapping around him into a tight embrace they shared only once before. One hand gripped his back as the other combed through his hair, unwilling to have even a single moment stolen from her.

All those years of living as a demon forgotten with the simple power of a hug. All those words she said to herself about never trusting anyone forgotten with the warmth of his body. All her fears about their meeting forgotten with the strength of their embrace. Nothing would separate them again.

He felt invigorated, more so than he had in the last few months. His mission was almost complete, the only remaining thing to do was get back safely. With Raven in tow, he rushed out of the forlorn cave and past it, hurrying to the portal her father told him about.

The air around them grew colder than the chill in the cave and the ice felt harder under their feet. A sinkhole could be seen in the distance, a maelstrom frozen in the most violent stage. It had a radius of a league and just as deep, leading to a hole in the center, black as a pupil.

They both put on a burst of speed, trying to close the distance as quickly as possible. A shadow of a smile crossed Raven's face. The fact her hands joined with Beastboy's was enough to fill her with a feeling she had all but forgotten. A feeling that retreated when the hand left hers and put it over her shoulder protectively.

Beastboy's nose twitched and his hair stood up on every part of his person. It was the same feeling as when he entered Cerberus' lair, but more severe than that. They had crossed over into something terrible. The territory of a thousand beasts, all wanting to kill them.

Small pricks of black ran in from the sides of the whirlpool, dashing with breathtaking speed. The forms grew clearer as they came closer, emerging from the far off mist in small packs.

Hellhounds, numbering in the hundreds padded their way towards them, closing to a hundred meters and stopping. Hell's last and only line of defense, solely purposed to stop any from leaving. A cacophony of growls and barks reached them, the deep snarls daring them to take even one step forwards.

Beastboy's eyes darted rapidly, scanning the hounds for movements or threatening moves. His hand gripped Raven's shoulder as anger coursed through him. She put a cool hand on it, making his eyes turn to meet hers.

He calmed instantly at her gaze and a fanged smile graced his face. Hers showed no change in emotion but her eyes screamed of confidence.

"Can you shield us?" He asked.

Raven looked down at her hands and back at him. A nod sufficed to answer him.

He brought his hand to her cheek, appreciating her beauty for what might be the last time.

Growls and snarls came from the horde of Hellhound, salivating at the smell of their next meal. Hundreds upon hundreds of dogs, each staring at the pair with devilish eyes.

Beastboy moved slowly, positioning himself behind the empath. She closed her eyes and calmed herself, looking deep within her to summon her greatest source of power. Her Fury responded with an eagerness that she would never have expected. All of her emotions added their power to hers, invigorating her soul with a power stronger than she had felt with just her Fury alone.

She opened her eyes again and looked to him, warmth coursing through her veins as she saw that toothy grin that recalled such happy times to her.

The changeling didn't dare blink for fear that if he were to lose sight of her even for an instant, she would be gone again. He gripped her shoulder for an added sense of security, though mostly for him.

"Hold on tight." He said. She responded with a nod again and put her arms around his shoulders. It was time.

The animal silently roaring inside of him took a firmer role, spreading its own power throughout him and he let it.

The familiar form took shape within him and he did nothing to hold it back. Fur grew across his body and muscles lined his entire being. Claws replaced nails and fangs replaced teeth. His bones hardened and his instincts took over.

The end was in sight. Their opponents were in view. With one arm he swept her legs up and with the other he held her close to him, protecting her as he had done so many times before.

His commanding presence did nothing to sway the Hellhounds in the distance, their snarls only growing more fierce with the stronger opponent on the field.

Beastboy stared with white eyes at the canines. He didn't care what it took. He had to get past them and reach the portal together with Raven.

They hadn't moved forwards for some time now, baiting him to make the first move. The Beast lowered himself, ready to take off and barrel through any in his path. He took his right foot and stamped it in front of him. The act of war.

Instead of charging at him as he expected, Beastboy was stunned to see them softly padding forwards. Hundreds of dogs all marching towards him, but not in a straight line. He saw many of the Hellhounds walking into each other. Instead of stopping when the bodies touched, the fur began to meld and the bodies meshed together.

What was once two fierce hounds became a greater creature with two heads attached to a bigger body. He looked across the field and saw dozens of these animals padding towards them. Some had two heads, others more. His eyes couldn't keep up with the numerous monsters continuously growing larger.

It was then he remembered his attempt to mimic Cerberus. When he tried to take the form of the three-headed dog, he was smaller and less dangerous than he hoped. There were many accounts of Cerberus. Some described it as having between one to three heads, while other accounts numbered it as over fifty.

All of these accounts were true. When threatened, the Hellhounds could meld into a bigger and stronger creature. And if a combination of three Hellhounds could pacify the entire circle of Gluttony, what horrors would befall them if these hundreds became a single entity?

A monstrous creation appeared before them. A single creature with the power of all of Hell behind it. A mass of fangs and flurry, instant death to anything that dared to challenge it.

Against something so massive and powerful, neither Beastboy nor Raven could hope to survive. They hat to work together to power through it. The empath grasped his fur tighter, both telling him that she was ready and that she was just as scared as he was.

He left deep gashes in the ice from where he took off. The Beast sprinted directly towards the monster with such speed and power as he had never used before. Raven used the powers at her command to create a shield. Black energy surrounded them as they quickly closed the distance to the portal with the strength of the shield directly linked to her willpower.

The cold Cocytial lake only hindered the couple while the lump of snarling fur moved impossibly fast. Razor sharp fangs were the only thing that were on the surface of the monster, using them to move across the ice with lightning speed.

As the two moved towards each other, Beastboy saw a gaping mouth on top of the creature moving down to crush them . He took no notice of it and continued his frontal assault, increasing his speed far beyond what he felt comfortable with.

As the jaws closed in on them , Beastboy dug his heels into the ground and jumped left, making the jaws close in on empty ice.

Almost instantly, more jaws tried to grab them as they sprinted along the side of the creature. The fangs impacted the ice like clockwork but the distance was getting closer. Beastboy could feel the impacts of the fangs almost nipping at his heels so he brought his legs together and used his tightly knit muscles to jump high into the air.

A large clawed paw appeared beneath the many fur and fangs, swatting them out of the sky. It bypassed the shield and struck Beastboy in the side, stunning them both and propelling them away with immense power.

The two of them flew into the distance with incredible force, sailing though the cold air and speeding towards the ice. Beastboy knew what was coming, so he curled up into a ball and whirled around so that his back would get the brunt of the hit.

Raven was jarred by how unexpected it was, her will shaken by the sheer force of the attack. She didn't know if she could summon her shield again.

Then she heard something. Her head was close to his chest and she could feel a steady rhythm right beside her. A heartbeat. A strong heartbeat. His heartbeat.

She closed her eyes and concentrated on the sound. With it, she was able to calm herself and bolster her willpower once more.

Beastboy got back up and quickly checked over his charge. She felt calm and safe, all that he needed to know. The monster started towards them again so he dashed back in the direction of the portal. Raven summoned up the shield again, but it looked thicker and darker this time.

As he dashed to avoid the monster, he lost sight of it. A dangerous thing, to lose something so big. The mildest description of what he was up against was like the size of a football field and the power of both teams charging from the same side.

Out of nowhere, they were surrounded by a blanket of darkness. A blanket with fangs and claws.

The monster had jumped into the air as the Beast did, but at a much greater height and crashed down on them. They could see flashes of white through the black shield, light reflecting from the calcium on a thousand fangs and in the whites of a thousand eyes.

They bounced off of Ravens reinforced shield with little effect but it was clear that their defenses wouldn't last for long.

The Beast had to keep as low to the ground as it could, removing a hand from shielding Raven and using it to help move away from the massive horror.

Sharp fangs dug away at the shield, each one trying to break through the shield. Beastboy thought the assault would never end, trying desperately to get out of the monsters grasp.

The ice was gouged out on all sides around the shield, making it harder to move quickly under the massive hulk. Beastboy could feel the jaws of fate closing around them, both literally and metaphorically but he wouldn't let it. He let out a loud roar and added a burst of speed, solely trying to get back into the open where they had a chance.

Massive claws plunged into the ice in front of them but the Beast paid it no mind. He burst right through it, forcing the paw out of the way and into the open once again.

They jumped through the air, sailing far above where the ground should have been. As they landed, the ice was slanted enough to carry them along a circular path. Beastboy heard an ungodly roar from behind him, crying out in anguish and loss. He looked back to see that it had stopped in its tracks, unwilling to follow them down into the sinkhole they found themselves in.

It howled with anger and rage that it couldn't stop those that tried to escape Hell. It could do nothing as their prey slid away.

Beastboy looked around, trying to see where the ice was taking them. His eyes widened in shock.

A maelstrom frozen into the ice at the most extreme point the vortex could get. Both Beastboy and Raven tumbling uncontrollably around the edge.

They circled closer to the center and the wind blew furiously. They grew fiercer as they neared the eye, sweeping Beastboy off of his feet. Raven rumbled out of his grasp and both of them flew around the circumference of the whirlpool.

The coldness of the ice and the speed it blew at froze the very air around it, making a nimbus of hail that tore through them.

In an effort to shield Raven as best he could, he used a combination of strength and willpower to push himself closer to her. They were going at such a speed that he was gaining only small leaps at a time.

The demoness saw what he was trying to do and tried herself, but made no greater attempts than Beastboy to draw themselves together again.

She grew angrier at her failure, the rage showing on her face.

The Fury.

Four violet eyes erupted on her face and her face contorted with Fury. Arms shot forwards and black energy leapt from her fingertips, flying towards him.

Tendrils of energy reached and surrounded him with the sole purpose of bring him back to her. He slid across the ice faster than ever before and into the waiting arms of the one he sacrificed so much for.

They joined their bodies together, arms wound tightly around themselves and legs interlocked, doing everything humanly possible to stay together. With everything that happened in the past few days and with everything they went through in what seemed to be their entire lives, the only thing they desired was just to be.

Be together.

Be happy.

Be everything, forevermore.

The path to the eye ended abruptly and both demon and human fell into the abyss.

Falling.

Surrounded by blackness.

Hurtling towards something unknown.

An energy enveloped them, but they didn't care. They were together now and nothing else mattered.

Not even life.

...

..

.

* * *

Starfire held her head in her arms. She had been like this for several hours now, trying to sort out the many thoughts racing through her head. Even before the changeling departed, she knew that it could be weeks or even months before he returned, assuming that he even made it to Raven and back.

She couldn't even begin to pretend what he could go through or what trials he had to face to reach the end of his journey.

The last hour had been debating what to do with herself. Would she go back to the bunker for the duration, fly back to Tamaran, or set the shop close to here?

She had just about made up her mind when she heard a thump behind her. She turned to see two figures on the grass, one green and the other pale as moonlight. Happiness entered her heart as she recognized the figures, rushing towards them with enviable vigor.

"Friends Beastboy and Raven! You have returned! Oh joyous events, my happiness is limitless! You are home!"

Beastboy breathed for the first time in what felt like ages, a multitude of scents hitting him. Dead wood, old stone, and new shampoo, all at once. The sun was sunken in the sky, a clear sign of dusk and the coming of night.

Night, a novel concept. He had just spent a number of days traversing a plane that never had any form of solar rotation only to return to the exact point he left and to find that only a few hours had passed.

Before he could react, he was tackled by a flying crimson blur. Starfire hovered from her happiness at their union and Beastboy poured his relief into the hug. Relief that they were back home and with Raven by their side.

Raven rose up and saw her friends embrace. She could see the warmth shared between the two, both of the Titans being the most emotional people she knew, but something was wrong. She saw the emotions being poured out but couldn't feel them.

She put a hand to her chest and exhaled in disbelief. "I... I'm human." She muttered in disbelief. The revelation was stunning and she could barely comprehend it. She had taken her powers for granted, born and lived with them for every moment of every day. That they were gone was unsettling.

Starfire broke away from Beastboy and rushed over to Raven. As she felt arms surrounding her, she felt truly happy to be reunited with her old friends but her problem nagged at the back of her head. It would take a long time, if ever, to get used to being human.

* * *

She opened her eyes and looked around. She was at the entrance to Hell once again, the gates looming over her again. She opened her mouth to breathe only to notice that her teeth felt bigger than usual.

She brought a hand up to her face to brush a strand of hair aside, only to see that her skin was a deep crimson and her hair a pure white. Her body felt different too, more powerful. A quick check over herself brought a smile to herself. Her demonic half was no longer just a half. There wasn't a single part of humanity holding back the power of Hell.

With four golden eyes, she looked over to the collapsed figure beside her. It was another demon from the aura of it but the green skin made her think otherwise. Whatever he was, he would have to follow her or die.

She snapped her fingers, making the figure rise over her. He was slightly hunched over, heavily muscular and feral in nature. A low growl came from him and sharpened claws tightened into solid fists.

Garfield was surprised to find himself in full control of his body. The feeling was almost ethereal. Usually he had to wait for his host to be asleep or unconscious for hi, to take control. He looked down at his hands. His fingers were longer and thicker than he was used to, arms and shoulders covered in a fine green fur. Not quite human, but with all the capability and power of one.

Raven looked at the monster and grinned. He wouldn't harm her. She walked towards the gates with a brisk pace. "Come Garfield. We have an afterlife to rule." She commanded.

The green creature followed her towards the gates, eager to serve his new mistress to the ends of the worlds.

**FIN**


End file.
